A Time For Heroes
by masterctarl
Summary: Ch. 8 is up! TFA: At the dawn of the great war, a mech with no choice but to be a soldier meets his first mission, a young prodigy named Perceptor. He never expected to fall in love his with his mission. Young!Ultra Magnus/Young!Perceptor, Slash, sticky
1. The Mission

**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any person, place, or thing attached to it. It belongs to Hasbro. Don't sue me.**

**Note 1: **This takes place during the start of the Decepticon rebellion. I figure they probably wouldn't have been well trusted by Cybertronians at all if they were called Decepticons at the time, so I call them by their Japanese title "Destrons" until they adopt the name "Decepticons".

**Note 2: **This idea came to me a while ago. This is basically the story of Ultra Magnus, or rather Ultra Dion before he was Elite Guard, and Perceptor during the start of the Great War.

**Note 3: **To anyone who's waiting for Snow and Pretty Toys, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to start a new one! It just sort of happened!

**WARNING: This fanfic gets very sticky very fast! In fact, this first chapter has not only Sparkbonding, but also Plug'N'Play and Sticky between two mechs! No Likey, No Ready! The pairing is Young!Ultra Magnus (Ultra Dion)/Young!Perceptor.**

**Chapter One  
The Mission:**

"Ultra Dion!"

He'd never asked to be a soldier. He didn't know anything about fighting. And many of the Destrons… he had once considered them his friends. Why would they do this?

"You have completed your training as a soldier under the newly developed Autobot army! You have completed your tests and training with high honors."

That was almost a joke in his processor. He had simply done whatever came naturally to him. He only knew how to function as a soldier from his previous function running errands for the Destron military before they rebelled.

"Are you ready for your first assignment as an Autobot soldier?"

No. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Bring him in."

Ultra Dion turned around. He himself was a bulkily armored soldier. Or, at least he was now. He was blue and white, carrying a modified battle hammer on his back. It was like a smaller version of the Magnus hammer the Elite Guard commander before him held. The Magnus wasn't who he was focusing on, though. He was focused on the young mech trailing behind the guards at the door. He was young, the mesh covering his internal components a light green. His armor, so much less than the impromptu soldiers around him, was red and black.

"Ultra Dion, this is Perceptor. He is quickly rising to become the foremost expert on Cybertronian modifications we have seen."

Dion was taken aback. The mech had to be younger than he was. The young scientist looked at him with curious blue optics, seeming to pick him apart with his processor, almost determining what made him tick just by looking at him. The soldier had to pry his eyes away to keep from being hypnotized by the stare. "That's fascinating, sir, but what does he have to do with my mission?" he asked the Magnus.

The Magnus was patient. "Ultra Dion, he _is_ your mission."

"What?!" Dion couldn't stop himself from his outburst. As soon as he cried out, the blue optics analyzing him turned away, looking at the floor shyly.

"Perceptor has already had two attempts by Destron rebels on capturing him. They have already captured three other scientists in hopes that they will reveal the secrets and weaknesses of our weapons, as well as develop new ones. Even if the scientists do not cooperate, they have ways of convincing them to. Megatron, the leader of the rebellion, has gone mad in his obsession for them to take over control of our home planet. If he got his hands on Perceptor…" he trailed off as the young scientist's optics widened in fear.

Dion looked at the mech he was assigned to protect and sighed. The poor bot was so frightened. So he looked back up at the Magnus towering above him. "Understood, sir. I'll protect him."

"Good. Your first course of action will be to escort him to his superior's office in the West Wing of the Science Division. There you will keep an eye on him at all times. You will not leave his side under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?"

Ultra Dion felt he should have been mad that he wasn't given an actual mission. But instead he felt relief. Protect the scientist. That couldn't be hard. And at least he'd have company. He looked at Perceptor who was staring at him again with those analyzing optics. Okay, slightly unnerving company. But still, it was company.

()()()()()

"So…" Dion tried to make conversation as they walked down the hall leading to the front entrance and exit of the heavily guarded Elite Guard building. "Two attempts, huh? You doing okay after them?"

Perceptor looked away from him. Okay, not exactly the conversation he should have gone for. But still, he got a semi-vocal response. "Mm-hm." It was better than nothing.

"Um…" Dion searched for another topic. "What's your superior like?"

Perceptor looked back at him a moment. He then finally smiled a bit. "He's… alright, I suppose." His voice was light and airy, carrying the noble accent of the Elite. "He tends to demand too much of us, in my opinion. But I suppose that is the job of a Science Division head."

"What's his name?" Dion encouraged.

"Crosscut."

"The Science Division's council representative?"

"Mm-hm," Perceptor nodded. "He took me to a few council meetings. He says that when he retires he wishes for me to run the Science Division. But, well…" He trailed off, looking at the ground as they neared the door.

"But?" Dion pushed.

"But… I don't want to be bound here. I want to go out there. Explore. See new planets, observe the technological differences, compare intellect with alien species."

Dion nodded. He understood being pushed into something he didn't want to do. That was his problem at the moment. But he didn't vocalize it. "Alright, we're going to be very careful when we cross the guard line for the building. Okay?" he asked.

Perceptor went silent again, simply nodding.

"I'm sure nothing will happen," the soldier assured him. "But it's procedure, and you know what they say. Better safe than sorry, right?"

The scientist nodded again. He still looked nervous.

"Come on. Just… hold my servo, okay?" He held out a servo. The young scientist looked at it unsure, but finally took it. Dion had to note how much larger his own was in comparison. "Alright, just stay beside me and don't let go of my hand, okay?" Perceptor nodded again. They then took off down the street to the Science Division, Dion keeping an eye out for an ambush.

()()()()()

"Perceptor!" A red and white mech stood up as they entered his office.

"Hello, Crosscut," Perceptor replied lightly.

The head of science sized up Ultra Dion. "And this is…?"

"My name is Ultra Dion, sir," the soldier saluted. "I have been assigned to protect Perceptor from any potential kidnapping attempts by the Destrons."

Crosscut considered it, then waved it off. "I won't allow it. I will hire a proper bodyguard. Not a fresh-out-of-training rookie."

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's not your call to make," Dion took a chance by talking out of place. He knew he shouldn't have with a council member, but he didn't want to be fired from his first mission less than a megacycle after he'd received it. "This was a unanimous decision made by the Magnus and the other members of the council."

"What? They made a decision about my assistant without my input?"

"It was because I _am_ your assistant," Perceptor said, looking a bit embarrassed. He obviously didn't often speak out of turn. "You have a bias opinion since we share a close working relationship. The only logical conclusion was for you to not be included in the proceedings to prevent your bias from causing a problem in the decision."

"Nonsense," Crosscut waved it off. "We share no relationship past scientist and assistant. But, I suppose I cannot bring up issue until tomorrow. Until then I suppose we shall see if you are worth the energon spent on training you, Ultra Dion."

"Thank you, sir," Dion said through his gritted teeth. This scientist simply seemed so full of himself. And waving off the prospect of a simple relationship between him and his assistant caused Perceptor to look away in embarrassed disappointment. "It's getting late. May I escort you to your living quarters, Perceptor?"

The young scientist looked back at him before nodding. Dion was getting annoyed by those simple nods. He got an idea of how to take care of them, but he couldn't implement it in front of Perceptor's mentor. So he instead said, "Alright, lead the way."

Perceptor quickly left the room with a simple, "Recharge well," to his superior. The other simply waved him off, not improving the young scientist's mood.

As soon as they were far from the office, though, Dion grabbed Perceptor's wrist. The latter turned quickly, never having been stopped like that before.

"I'm making a new rule," Dion explained. "From now on, I want you to use that vocal processor. We're not going any closer to your quarters unless you say something about it."

"About what?" Perceptor asked, sounding puzzled.

"Whatever I've asked you to do. I want you to actually verbally tell me that you understand what I've asked you to do."

"This is ridiculous," the young scientist huffed.

"No, it's not. If I'm going to be protecting you I need to know that you can speak to me."

Perceptor stared at him a moment before sighing. "Very well."

"Good. Now let's try this again. May I escort you to your living quarters?"

Perceptor almost nodded, but then looked away. "Yes…" he muttered.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Will you release me, please?"

"Of course." Dion let go and allowed him to continue leading the way. At least they'd come to an understanding. But what was it that this strange young mech had against verbalizing? After all, his vocals were quite pretty.

Dion suddenly stopped, shaking his head. _'Whoa. Where did that come from?'_ he thought. Now that he thought about it, he never really _thought_ about it before. He was spending so much time around military bots that he'd never really met someone as soft as Perceptor. Even the femmes in the military, even in this make-shift one for the Autobots, weren't exactly dainty. But here came Perceptor, a young mech so very different from everything he'd know…

That had to be it. He wasn't really attracted to him in that way. After all, he was Dion's mission. It was simply the fascination over something so different than what he was used to.

"Ultra Dion?" Perceptor had stopped, and was once again analyzing him with those deep blue optics.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Dion ran to catch up. "Sorry, I was just… thinking."

"Oh." They continued walking. "Of what?"

"Of what?" Dion echoed nervously. "N-nothing in particular, you know, just… things."

"Hmm…" It was a pretty vocal hum, so clear and flawless. So inviting…

'_No!'_ he told himself. _'He's my mission! The first basic rule of being on a mission is to develop no personal feelings for it, no matter what it is! No matter how much you want to! No matter how pretty it is. Or nice. Or soft…'_

"Ultra Dion!" Perceptor said a bit more forcefully.

"Hmm? What?"

"You were… thinking… again."

"Oh, sorry," the soldier said sheepishly. "And just call me Dion, please."

"Alright," Perceptor smiled a bit shyly.

Dion looked in wonderment. He was made so happy with such a simple thing. Why couldn't Crosscut manage to make him smile like this? He decided to venture forth, see if he could draw him any farther out of his shell. "Is there anything I can call you for short?"

Perceptor blushed a bit, then looked away without responding. Dion cringed, thinking he'd pushed too far. But no, after a moment the scientist answered. "Percy. You… um… you can call me Percy…"

"Sure. Percy."

Perceptor's smile widened a bit. The poor mech must have been almost completely deprived of proper social interaction. He was so withdrawn, and craved someone to give him attention that didn't have to do with his processor. "H-here we are," he stopped at a door, pushing the button, sliding it open.

"Nice," Dion grinned. The room was large, probably just for their special spark of processor. "Do you get this whole room to yourself?"

The scientist's smile faltered. "Yeah… all to myself…"

Dion cringed. He hadn't meant to upset him further.

"W-would you like to come in?"

The soldier looked at him in surprise. Perceptor was blushing again. He shouldn't, it would only tempt him. But, only a few kliks couldn't hurt… could it?

"Well?" Perceptor stood waiting expectantly. He looked so hopeful.

"Sure," Dion finally gave in. "I'll stay a while."

()()()()()

The room was larger than most of the quarters that berthed four trainees back at the newly established Autobot Academy. Most of it was covered in datapads, machines, and tools. "I'd think you'd want to get away from your work here," Dion couldn't help but point out.

"I… I do," Perceptor sat on the edge of the large berth. "I mean, when I'm with Crosscut I have to work on whatever he says. But here I can do whatever I want. This is where I make most of the mods the council accepts as 'revolutionary' or… you know… whatever…" he trailed off, seeming uncomfortable talking about his smarts.

"Surely you do something else. I mean, all of these datapads can't be about mods."

"Well…" Perceptor looked embarrassed.

"Come on, Percy," Dion grinned, encouraging him.

Perceptor smiled at the use of the shortening of his name, and gave in. "You see I like to… dabble."

Dion raised an optic ridge. "Dabble?" he repeated.

"Yes, you know. I like to study lots of different things at least a little bit. Languages, planets, machinery, other bots…" he looked up at Dion as he said the last one. He was still smiling shyly. It was as if he _wanted _the soldier to let go of what little restraint he had left. Sitting on the edge of the berth. Smiling so sweetly. With those beautiful, blue optics.

'_Rules be slagged, I'm getting personal!'_ Dion finally thought, quickly joining Perceptor on the edge of the berth. He snuck an arm around the young scientist's thin waist, drawing their faceplates close.

"Dion…" Perceptor blushed, but didn't push him away.

"This doesn't have to be a time to vocalize," Dion teased. He gently closed the gap, testing the waters. He brushed their lip components together, feeling that gentle, shy smile against his. He couldn't help but smile back. He'd known the scientist for less than three megacycles and here they were, exchanging gentle kisses on his berth. It didn't take long for him to actually push their lips together, lightly feathering his servos across the soft curves of his pretty mission subject. The kisses that were returned were timid but willing.

Dion realized this was probably the first time the poor kid ever experienced something like this. He was so withdrawn, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd never been touched like this. He had to be tender. Take it slow.

Thin servos reached up and rested against his chest plating as they continued to exchange kisses. Dion pulled back and looked back at the scientist. His faceplate was tinted red around his cheek components, blue optics shining. Perceptor thought he'd done something wrong and began to withdraw his hand. But Dion caught it with the servos he had been using to skim patterns across the chassis beside him. "It's alright. I'm just looking."

Perceptor smiled again, looking away shyly. "At what…?"

"The prettiest mech I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"That's highly unlikely…" Despite his objection, his smile widened, blushing deeper. "But it's nice to hear…" he admitted lightly.

Dion didn't reply, placing a gentle kiss on the exposed wires of Perceptor's neck. The scientist gasped a bit. "D-Dion…" he breathed the name sweetly. It was eating away at the restraint Dion was using. He softly pushed Perceptor back onto the berth so that he was laying underneath the soldier.

"So pretty…" Dion muttered, stroking the scientist's cheek with his servos. "I've never seen anything so soft and inviting…" The servos trailed down Perceptor's neck, eliciting gentle moans. Then down his chest plating, down his abdomen, finally brushing against the wires between his thigh and pelvic plating.

"N-ah…!" Perceptor suddenly jerked, yelping and pushing the mech on top of him a bit. He looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Dion sighed, removing his servos from their offending place. "I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"N-no! I mean, I'm sorry!" Perceptor all but yelped. "I… I was just surprised! I promise, you don't have to stop!"

Dion paused. He had to be sure. "You're sure you want to me to keep going?" he asked. Perceptor nodded quickly. "Nuh-uh-uh. Remember what we discussed before?" He smiled, bringing his faceplate close again. "Use your pretty vocals…"

Perceptor blushed further, but then said, "Yes, please continue!"

Dion smiled, lowering his servos again. He once again ran the servos along the wiring of his pelvis, drawing out sharp gasps, moans, and the occasional cry. But indeed, he no longer pushed away, after a while actually beginning to move his hips in encouragement. His spark chamber, hidden beneath his chestplate, pulsated. Dion's own responded in kind, craving the writhing, pleasure-filled creature under him.

The servos finally moved, Dion placing himself between the scientist's legs. His own pelvic plating felt tight and desired release. He panted, bringing his lips next to the moaning scientist's audio receptors. "Let me interface with you…"

Perceptor gasped, optics wide. Dion ground their pelvises together to help him decide, though. "Aa-ahn!" the scientist cried out, his pelvic plating retracting, revealing his port and plug. Dion's own pelvic plating did the same, and he kissed the writhing scientist as his plug slid into the other mech's port. Perceptor gasped and cried out against his mouth, feeling the throbbing invader retreat before pushing in again and again. It hurt and pleased at the same time, stretching virgin tubing and pushing against sensitive wiring.

As they interfaced Perceptor couldn't stop his chest plating from opening up, the pleasure craving completion. Dion was all too happy to comply, opening his own spark chamber and pushing the two together as he kissed his pretty mission subject. He gripped Perceptor's knees and pushed them up and apart as his plug worked at the scientist's insides, their sparks dancing and glossas wrestling. Their chassis rubbed together with Perceptor's own plug between them, pleasuring him to the point where he couldn't hold on. He finally overloaded, spark flaring and plug releasing its milky white lubricant between them as he pulled away from the kiss and cried out. Dion wasn't far behind, filling the scientist under him with the same milky substance, spark syncing itself with Perceptor's, grunting in pleasure.

Dion finally collapsed on top of him, both panting, cooling fans working overtime. They were sticky, tired, and satisfied.

"That was… wow…" Perceptor couldn't seem to articulate his pleasure, simply laying in sticky, wet, hazy bliss.

"Mm-hm," Ultra Dion pushed himself to the side, off of his berth partner, now bondmate. He had to think of that. Within four megacycles he'd interfaced and sparkbonded with his first mission.

"Dion?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I think I love you…"

Dion smiled, pulling his scientist closer, stroking his side affectionately. "I certainly hope so. Because I know for a fact that I'm definitely in love with you."

So much for taking it slow.


	2. Inquisition

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own Transformers or any characters or places connected with it. The only character that belongs to me in this is Counterbalance. Please ask my permission before you use him.

**Note: **This chapter contains a _very_ long speech by Perceptor to the council. I actually would appreciate if you read it, as I worked very hard on it. If you wish to skip it, that is your choice, but again, I'd appreciate it.

**Warning: **This chapter contains more sticky Plug'N'Play between Young!Ultra Magnus (aka Ultra Dion) and Young!Perceptor. You have been warned.

**Read and Review Acknowledgments:**

**KisaraCrystal**, **Matilda Saturday,** and **Fire McFly** - Thank you for the reviews, I hope you continue reading and enjoy this next chapter!

**Chapter 2  
Inquisition**

Five stellar cycles passed like solar ones since that first blissful sparkbond. To Crosscut's disdain the council refused to withdraw Ultra Dion as Perceptor's bodyguard. They saw no reason to, despite the Head of Science's arguments. So Dion became another part of the members of the Science Divisions' lives. They treated him like one of their own, albeit with less processor power.

Everyone, at least, but Crosscut. He was determined to find something to give to the council. Lucky for Dion, he hadn't found out about their closer-than-professional relationship. Most of the scientists knew but didn't say anything. After all, with his new bodyguard there Perceptor was happier than they'd ever seen him before. They could finally see his smile. He was even starting to socialize - Primus forbid - past discussing experiments. Even Crosscut's own bodyguard, Road Rage, whom worked on the Head of Science's credit, knew. But again, she said nothing. She rather liked Dion, mostly because she was no longer the only person in the room that didn't speak geek.

So she sat in the back with Dion, playing holo-checkers to pass the time.

"King me," Road Rage smiled, moving her piece to his side.

"Hmm? What?" Dion looked at her blankly. His attention had been on the other side of the room, where Perceptor was bent over an examination table looking at a foreign substance with a colleague.

Road Rage lifted an optic ridge, smirking. "You know, if you 'face him any harder with your optics he'll start to feel it."

Dion almost said something rude back, but Perceptor glanced over his shoulder at him, smiling lightly. Dion closed his mouth and smiled back. Out of the corner of his optic, though, he caught Crosscut's gaze and quickly turned back to their game. He kinged her piece and moved one of his own.

"I swear your employer is out to get me," he muttered.

"You think he hates you now, imagine how he'd feel if he knew you were boinking his prize assistant," Rage said.

"Shh!" Dion hissed, kicked her under the table. "You're not helping!"

"Oh, you wanted help? Well, why didn't you say so?" the bodyguard opened up a commlink. "Alright, boys. Hit it."

A nano-klik later there was a loud _BOOM_. The two scientists at the table jumped. Crosscut stood up at his desk. "What in the name of Primus was _that_?!" he yelled.

"I believe that was a class three explosion!" Perceptor yelped.

"I know that!" he superior snapped. "I meant what caused it!"

As if on cue, one of the scientists from the East Wing appeared on the large screen on his wall. "Sorry sir, that was our fault!" he said sheepishly. Bots behind him were frantically putting out fires and moving experimental weapons. "A bomb we were prepping for a test run went off prematurely!"

Crosscut sighed, rubbing his optics. "Alright, contain the fire, I'm on my way with help." Despite being a bit hard on his subordinates, Crosscut did like to help with problems. He was very hands-on. "Road Rage! Counterbalance! Come with me!"

"Coming!" Road Rage said, standing up. As she passed Dion she winked, mouthing, 'You're welcome.' Dion smiled and shook his head, trying not to laugh.

Counterbalance patted Perceptor on the back, heading off as well. He was a high-ranked scientist who specialized in biological weapons. His current concern outside of whatever Crosscut assigned him to was finding a cure for Cosmic Rust. The colony of Cybertronians he had lived in had almost completely been wiped out by the virus, only five surviving. He was kind but a bit distant.

"Perceptor, stay here. We'll be back."

"Yes, sir," the young scientist replied. He watched them run off then sighed, returning his attention to the substance on the table. He then yelped as something grabbed his aft from behind. "Dion!" he gasped as roaming servos groped at his chassis. "This isn't the time, they said they'll be back!"

"Not anytime soon, if Road Rage can drag it out," Dion grinned, continuing his gentle strokes. "Gotta respect a femme who will plan a class three explosion just so we can have some alone time."

"Mm… nn-ah…" Perceptor didn't complain anymore as the servos expertly worked their ways into joints and crevices, massaging the sensitive wires. Five stellar cycles together taught Dion all of his bondmate's favorite pleasure spots. His favorite was still the wires between his thigh and pelvic plating, as it always brought him back to their first time. He arched and moaned, his aft grinding into Dion's pelvic plating. The soldier couldn't tell what drove him crazier, the feeling of it, or the sight of his pretty scientist in such ecstasy. "Love… you… ahn!" The usually extremely well spoken mech was rendered inarticulate during these passionate fits, clawing at the desk with one servo while gripping the edge he was bent over with the other.

Dion wasn't sure he was much better, rendered to grunts and groans. It wasn't long before he retracted his pelvic plating, throbbing plug pushing against the back of Perceptor's plating in need.

Perceptor finally found his voice. "Dion! We… we can't! They'll be back… aa-ah!" he was cut short as Dion gently pushed two servos in his mouth to silence him.

"They'll be back before we know it if you keep stalling. Come on, Percy," he whispered into his mate's audio receptor, grinding his thick plug against his aft.

Perceptor let out a loud moan and finally retracted the plating, spreading his legs wider. Dion hungrily shoved himself inside the wonderfully tight tubing of Perceptor's port. "Nnnn…!" The scientist moaned and cried out, muffled against the servos still inside his mouth. Dion got to work, pulling and pushing their hips together, moving the servos between Perceptor's moaning lips in perfect time with it. His spark throbbed in his chestplate, feeling Perceptor's do the same, but they didn't have time to readjust and bond with each other. The free servos he had he used to reach between his mate's shuddering legs, pumping his plug in time with the thrusts.

Dion groaned as he felt the tubing contract around his plug, a sign that his pretty scientist was about to overload. He removed the servos from Perceptor's mouth and gripped his hips with them, pushing harder and faster. Sure enough, a klik later, his spark exploded in ecstasy, plug releasing it's milky lubricant. Dion pushed in a few more times before grunting and releasing into him, his own spark flaring.

They both panted, sinking to the ground with Perceptor sitting in Ultra Dion's lap. "Mmm…" Perceptor gently hummed, snuggling against his lover's chestplate. "It's still so warm…"

Dion smiled softly, holding his bondmate tightly. He never thought he would be glad to have been pulled into the Autobot army. But if he hadn't been, he never would have met…

"Perceptor!"

They both jumped, the young scientist's optics as wide as hubcaps, staring at the door. "C-Crosscut!" he yelped, quickly replacing his pelvic plating. But it was too late, the evidence of what they had been doing was over their chassis, under the table, and dripping down the inside of Perceptor's thighs.

At first Crosscut looked surprised. Then angry. Then… oddly happy. "I've got you now, rookie."

()()()()()

"Ultra Dion, you stand before the council because you have been accused of abusing your power as a council assigned bodyguard. Shamelessly having inappropriate relations with the mech you are supposed to be protecting. Compromising his safety and your mission." Dion looked at the ground, unable to hold the scrutinizing gaze of the Magnus as he spoke. "After reviewing his processor, as well as your own, we see you unfit to continue as Perceptor's bodyguard. We will therefore be granting Crosscut's request that you be removed from your position, restricted from seeing Perceptor, and Crosscut will be allowed to personally choose his new bodyguard."

"NO!"

The room all turned and stared. Perceptor stood next to Crosscut, the latter looking stunned and angered. His assistant's optics were wide and panicked.

"If there is an objection you would like to make, Perceptor, I'm sorry. Only members of the council or those whom are concerned may object," the Magnus said calmly.

"He has no objection, sir," Crosscut said, glaring at his assistant. "He was out of line, and he apologizes for-"

"Stop it!" Perceptor snapped at him. After a moment, where he seemed to be stunned at himself, he took a breath and continued. "I do apologize, but I am not out of line and I have every right to object! How can you say I am not concerned in this matter? I am the reason for it! I am the one who needs to be protected, and I am the one who was with Dion to be caught! And yet, in all of this, no one cares how _I_ feel about it! No one has asked _me_ what _I_ may want!"

"Perceptor…" Crosscut growled. He gave him a warning look.

"No! Not this time, sir," Perceptor said, shaking a bit. He was using every bit of courage he had to speak up like this against not only his superior, but the entire council as well. "No one here seems to understand. They don't even care how I feel about it! No one ever has! All you, any of you, ever cared about was my processor! My inventions! My modifications! My observations! But… but did any of you once stop to think that I was more than all of that? The days when we were used as tools, as sparkless robots, has long since been over! So tell me, why am _I_ still victim of it?" If a mech could cry, he would have spent all of his tears speaking there. The room sat in silence as they waited to see if he was yet done with his passionate outburst. Even Crosscut found he was no longer able to speak.

"Percy…" Dion muttered, shocked. In the five stellar cycles they'd been together, he'd never seen the scientist so upset.

Perceptor turned his optics down to Dion, gesturing to him with a servo. "This mech is the only bot who ever cared about me. He knows my passions, my dreams, my joys… even my pains. Ask anybot in the Elite Guard Science Division, no matter the wing, no matter the function or specialty, and they will tell you that I have _never_ spoken this much before. I… even _I_ cannot believe I'm still speaking right now. But before Dion came around, I would have never have spoken here at all. Before Dion, I was so withdrawn that I never spoke to my own colleagues unless about an experiment we were working on together. I rarely even spoke to my own supervisor because he… because he never understood that I wanted to be so much more than he limited me to. I kept to myself and never interacted with others, no matter how close they were supposed to be, because everyone who has come near me never saw past my processor."

The scientist took a deep breath and once again indicated Dion. "But then you gave me Dion. And he sees me for everything I am. Honestly I, myself… I could not tell you what those are. But he sees them. I know, because he never asks me about the inventions I create at Crosscut's side, only of the ones I create when he and I are alone in my quarters. He never talks about my processor. He only asks me of my science if I had spoken of it first. He can see past all of that, and that has helped me come away from my fear, because he has _proven_ that I am more than what everyone sees. And ever since he came here, others can see it too. I'm not afraid to speak up with the others in my division, or make conversation about whatever I wish, not just what everyone expects."

"Perceptor, while we can sympathize, we-"

The young scientist cut off the Magnus for the second time, much to everyone, including his own, shock. "Let me finish!" he demanded. His bottom lip component quivered. "You cannot take him away from me, because I love him! And the reason why he can see me as no others do is because he loves me too! I can feel it in my spark, and every node of my being! If you take that away from me…!" He paused, lowering his voice so that the council member next to him moved the microphone at Crosscut's desk closer so they could still hear. "If you take him away from me, I don't think I could stay online…"

He looked up, a frightened, yet determined, look in his optics. "Please, listen to me! For once, listen to someone you have passed over! I don't know why you think our relationship would be a danger to us, but look at the evidence you seem so willing to pass over! There have been no attempts to take me in five stellar cycles! You ordered he never leave my side, and he hasn't, not even for a nano-klik! And if you really consider it, doesn't our bond make him even more suited to guard me? If I were to ever be placed in danger, he would know, because our sparks are connected. And if we were to be attacked, he would protect me because he loves me… just like I love him…" he looked back down at Dion, smiling gently. "…don't you, Dion?"

Dion looked at him perplexed, but then smiled back, nodding. "Always and forever, Percy."

"Alright. Enough." The Magnus held up a hand to stop any further objecting. "I believe we have heard enough of your case. Please, allow us to deliberate on the matter."

He folded his hands and shuttered his optics, as did the rest of the members of the council. Over a private link, they spoke to each other. Perceptor sat back down, looking ready to go into stasis lock. He hadn't known he had it in him. Neither did Dion, who never stopped watching him. When Perceptor looked at him, Dion smiled again, reassuringly. Perceptor smiled back.

After a few more cycles, the council onlined their optics again. "Ultra Dion." The Magnus turned to the scientist as well. "Perceptor." The young scientist stood up again. "After processing your argument and deliberating on it, we have come to a decision." Perceptor and Dion both held their breath. "We have decided, though not by a unanimous vote, but one I believe has enough impact and that I personally have advocated, to agree in favor… of you, Perceptor. Dion may stay as your bodyguard, as long as he continues to perform as directed by his aforementioned orders, and as long as you continue to need him. This case is dismissed and council is adjourned."

"Yes!" Perceptor all but bounded from his position next to Crosscut. He stumbled a bit on the stairs, but was caught by a smiling council member. When he reached the bottom, he threw himself into Dion's arms.

Dion just stood there a moment, holding him. He had come so close to losing his beautiful scientist forever. If he had been given another mission, who knew what danger the soldier could have been put in. He could have been offlined without ever seeing Perceptor's smile again.

"Dion…" Perceptor smiled, looking up at him. "I can't believe I did that…"

"Me neither," Dion chuckled, stroking his soft curves.

Perceptor sighed contentedly, leaning into his soldier. "Now, never, ever let me do it again. I thought I was going to offline from fright."

"Of course. It's over, you won. You're alright now. We're both alright."

"And very lucky." They both looked up as the Magnus approached, smiling kindly. "If not for you, Perceptor, we would have made a terrible error. I apologize. Not only for that, but also because, as you said, we were wrong. You are more than just a prodigy scientist. You are a mech with a spark, and we should have remembered that."

"What about me? You accused me of abusing my position," Dion huffed. "And frankly, I take offense to that."

Magnus chuckled, putting a servo on Dion's shoulder. "Yes, I apologize for that too. I had forgotten what it was like to be a young soldier. Especially one who met a lovely mech." He smiled and winked at Perceptor, who blushed.

"Sir," Dion said warningly, though in good humor.

Magnus laughed this time. "You both must forgive me. I'm old, but I'm not blind. Though I suppose I should keep an eye for bots my own age, eh?" The truth about the Magnus was that while he was very professional, he was just another bot like every other. "I believe you two should return to the Science Division and tell your friends and colleagues of your success. I need to straighten a few things out with Crosscut."

"Thank you, sir!" Perceptor smiled brightly, hurrying over to the door, where Road Rage hugged him enthusiastically.

Dion and Magnus watched him before the elder spoke once more. "You are again very lucky, Ultra Dion. Not many find love during war. Even less find someone like him. Make sure you treat him well."

"I will, sir. Thank you again." Dion waved to him as he hurried over to his scientist. They were both relieved that they no longer had to hide their love from Crosscut and the council. But they had no idea that this was only the beginning.


	3. Assistant and Apprentice

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fanfic, it all belongs to Hasbro/Takara. EXCEPT for Kaidon. He belongs to me, please don't steal him. If you wish to use him, please ask my permission first.**

**Note: **More old bots appearing as young ones! Can you spot the G1 geezer making a young-bot cameo? A prize to anyone who does!

**Note 2: **Sorry it took so long for the update (three and a half months?! O-o)! I'll try to do better, I promise!

**Warning: **This chapter contains sticky self-touching! That's right, mech-masturbation! Don't like it? How did you get this far?

**Read & Review Acknowledgements:**

**Stormx**, **KisaraCrystal**, **Invader Kathy Starsky**, and **ShiTiger** - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Remember, reviews feed my need to write giant, alien robot pr0n!

**Chapter 3  
Assistant and Apprentice**

Ultra Dion stretched as he came out of recharge, metal joints whining at him. The stellar cycles flew by quickly, seven more to be exact. The war was becoming a part of life on Cybertron, and whether that was good or bad was up to whatever bot was asked. Perceptor didn't often leave the Science Division anymore after another attempt was made on his capture, but luckily Dion had been there to stop it.

"Perceptor?" Dion looked around. The space next to him in the berth was empty, and his bondmate was nowhere in sight. He started to worry. It wasn't like him to wander off when Dion was recharging. "Percy?" he tried again.

The door on the other end of his quarters slid open, and the red and black scientist entered, looking a bit perplexed at Dion's worried faceplate. "Is something the matter, Dion?" he asked, placing the datapad he'd been carrying on a nearby desk.

"Oh, no, nothing's the matter," Dion muttered. "Just you up and disappearing…"

Perceptor smiled. "What are you talking about? I was in the next room, that's all. You know, I think you're getting paranoid."

Dion scoffed. "I don't see why, I mean with you almost getting captured last orbital cycle. You were lucky those Destrons were rookies. They could have really hurt you."

"I'm quite aware of that," his bondmate huffed. "That's why this will be good for me. A few solar cycles dabbling in Circuit-Su couldn't hurt."

"They can't really help either," Dion sighed. He stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around his bondmate's shoulders from behind. "No one ever really learned Circuit-Su by 'dabbling' in it for a _few_ solar cycles. It takes stellar cycles of hard work and discipline."

"I don't have stellar cycles, Dion, and you know it," Perceptor said, picking the datapad up again. "I'm lucky to have the little time I do. Crosscut also seems to think this is a waste of time, and not long ago he would have never agreed to it. But the Magnus seems to have convinced him that I should have a break every once in a while. During that break I can choose to do whatever I want, and I want to dabble in Circuit-Su."

"But why?" Dion asked. "Why something that involves fighting, and why something so far from Iacon? Why can't you choose something to dabble in that's more… I don't know, suited for you?"

Perceptor immediately lowered the datapad, turning on him. "_Suited for me_? You don't think I'm _suited_ for self defense? What, do you think I can't do it? Am I not strong enough? Does it not conform to some delicate, pretty image you have of me?!" He slapped the table with a loud _CLANG_ on the word 'me'.

Dion stood there, stunned. Perceptor was getting bolder every solar cycle, but this little outburst of anger took the energon cake. "No, that's not what I'm saying," he finally said, regaining his composure. "I just--"

"Just what? Just are afraid that maybe if I learn to defend myself you won't be the big, strong hero anymore? Do you want me to always need you to rescue me when I'm in trouble? Are you just counting down to the next time some Destron rebels decide I'm an easy target?" His light, airy voice trembled a bit.

Dion shook his head. Was that what this was about? "Percy, look… I'm sorry, okay?" He reached up and gently stroked Perceptor's cheek with his servos. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just worried, okay? Circuit-Su training is very hard, there's a reason why it takes centuries, sometimes millennia to truly learn. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

After a moment the scientist's features softened and he let out a sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. It's just, ever since that solar…"

**()()FLASHBACK()()**

It had been a normal solar cycle, rather uneventful. Perceptor and Dion had been given the solar to themselves, and the scientist jumped on the chance to actually get out of the Science Division for once. Dion thought it was a bad idea, worried about the Destrons and the war raging around them. But Perceptor convinced him that they would be staying near the building, and they had gone out many times before without incident, so the odds of something happening were slim. The soldier reluctantly agreed, though he still had a bad feeling deep in his spark.

Honestly, however, he forgot about it before long. Watching Perceptor, who only a few stellar cycles ago would have never dreamed of leaving the building unless it was absolutely necessary, marvel at the world around him was a wonder. He had to stop and look at everything, how it worked, how certain bots did the same activity but in a different way than the one next to them. It was simply a joy to watch him. At least, until they were returning to the building.

Perceptor was laughing on the way back, a sound Dion swore Primus had to have spent extra time tuning himself. It was just so pristine, so clear and perfect. He found he couldn't deny how fun it had been to leave the building and have fresh air course through his systems for once. When they arrived at the building though, the smile Dion wore faded. The guards weren't in sight. There were no bots around at all. This smelled of foul intentions.

"Percy, run…" Dion muttered, pushing him a bit toward the entrance.

"Hmm?" Perceptor gave him a confused look. He paused for a klik too long, though.

"Run!" Dion repeated, shoving him forcefully toward the door this time. Another klik later a laser cut through his side plating and he grabbed it, cringing.

"Dion!" the scientist stopped running mechanometers from the entrance, turning back in shock.

"Percy, don't stop!" It was too late, though. He watched in horror as two young Destron rebels jumped from their hiding places, each grabbing one of his terrified bondmate's arms.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" one of them sneered, tightening his grip. The young scientist flinched. "See? I told ya it was a good trap. One of those walking processors waltzed right into it. Megatron'll give me a nice reward for this."

"We sure he's a scientist? Looks kinda like a pleasure model to me." The other one grinned. "Sure is small enough. And look at this chassis. Curved like a newly paved road." He whistled low, running a servo along Perceptor's side. Their poor victim flinched again, but couldn't object. He was so frightened he was shaking.

"Don't touch him!" Dion roared, standing up and pulling the war hammer from behind his back despite his damage.

"Uh-uh-uh," one of the Destrons wiggled a servo back and forth, tsking. "I wouldn't move. You didn't think it was just us, did you? We've got a sniper who would be aiming for you right this nanoklik. One false move and you lose your head."

"Slaggers…" Dion growled. He had to stop them, but he wasn't any use if he was offline. He didn't know what to do.

"What'd he call you? Oh yeah, Percy," the one that was touching Perceptor ran a servo up his thigh, touching the circuits between his pelvic plating and thigh. The scientist let out a desperate, fearful cry at the contact. "You like that, Percy?" the Destron asked mockingly.

It was the last straw. To Pit if he offlined. No one touched his scientist but _him_. "Let him go!" Dion yelled, charging. A laser grazed his shoulder plating, but he didn't stop. He smashed his hammer into the head of the one touching his bondmate. Energon and oil splattered across the ground, pieces of armor flying away.

The other Destron rebel let go of Perceptor as if he'd done the bashing himself. "Holy Primus!" he yelped, backing away. "N-now, just calm down! I didn't touch your precious mech! Don't go gettin' mad at me!"

It was too late. Dion's instincts had already taken over. He grabbed that mech and pushed it in front of him - just in time for a laser to blast through the shocked rebel's chest plating. The Destron fell to the ground, alive but mortally injured.

Dion finally turned to Perceptor, who had sank to a sitting position on the steps leading into the building, almost completely stunned. "Percy…" he breathed out, running over. He put one servo on his shoulder, the other on his faceplate. "Percy, are you okay? Say something!"

There was a long moment as Perceptor simply stared at him. "…Dion…" he finally muttered, wide optics not leaving his energon-splattered face. "…you're hurt…" His entire chassis was trembling and he seemed glued to the spot.

"What's going on out here?!" a pair of guards ran out (much too late to do any good Dion noted) looking at the mess, then at Perceptor and Dion. "What happened here?"

Dion peeled his eyes away from his bondmate. "Destron rebels. They must have sniped the guards. I suspect the sniper ran after he shot his own buddy, though."

"We'll take it from here. Get him inside," the other guard said. "And get yourself to the repair bay. I'm surprised you can still stand."

**()()()END FLASHBACK()()()**

"It took three megacycles to repair the damage you sustained," Perceptor said, looking at the ground. "If I could have defended myself… that wouldn't have happened…"

"Don't even try to blame that on yourself, Percy," Dion said. "That wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known that there was an ambush waiting for us. Not even _for_ us, those rookies were waiting for any scientist unlucky enough to be coming in at that moment."

Perceptor shook his head, moving over to the berth, optics never leaving the floor. "But it's why I have to do this. I can't let that happen again…"

Dion took a deep breath then smiled. "Alright, Percy. You win. Let's get this over with."

()()()()()

The village of Alkaline was like nothing the young scientist had ever seen in his lifecycle. He had spent his in the bustling central city of Iacon, never having seen a quiet little village before. "Wow, look at that," he breathed out. "Is that really an Energon farm?"

"Yep, that's where a lot of the Energon we use comes from. I'd think you'd have read about them," Dion grinned.

"Of course I have, but there's a far cry from seeing something on a datapad and then seeing it in person. Oh, wow!" Perceptor picked up his pace, all but running to the entrance to the Alkaline Dojo. "This is amazing! Simply fascinating! Look at this architecture, it must be ancient, at least from the dawn of Cybertronian sparks!"

"Actually, it is from exactly three centuries _after_ the dawn of the spark."

Dion caught up and looked the bot who was speaking over, a habit he picked up from being Perceptor's lover and bodyguard. He was a fairly old mech and he looked the part of the strict teacher.

Perceptor stepped forward. "My name is Perceptor," he introduced himself, bowing in respect. He'd studied the culture and knew some of their customs. "I'm here for…"

"I am aware of why you are here," the mech said sternly. "I am Kaidon, the master of this dojo. I cannot say I approve of a bot who only wishes to study for five solar cycles." He then softened a bit at Perceptor's cringe. "However, being as Crosscut is an old friend, I will allow it. I, myself, however will not be teaching you." He stepped aside and another mech, a few centuries older than Dion, approached. His chassis was black, white, and gold. It was sleek but well armored. "This is Yoketron, my prize apprentice. He will teach you, and I will return to my _real _students."

Perceptor watched the old mech leave. "I don't think he likes me…" he muttered to Dion.

"Do not worry," Yoketron spoke up, smiling reassuringly. "Master Kaidon means well, he simply has much to do." He bowed. "You must be Perceptor."

"That is correct." The scientist returned the gesture. He then turned to Dion. "And this is my bodyguard, Ultra Dion."

"Nice to meet you," Dion simply held out a servo.

"Dion!" Perceptor scolded.

Yoketron simply laughed, taking the servo. "That is quite alright. I do not expect every bot to understand and conform to our culture. It is nice to meet you as well, Ultra Dion." He then turned back to the scientist. "Please, follow me."

The scientist nodded and followed. "If you don't mind me asking, could you tell me about the history of this dojo?" he asked, walking beside the apprentice.

Yoketron nodded. "I do not mind at all. It is refreshing to meet someone who is interested in such a small village as ours."

"Oh, I find other cultures most enlightening!" Perceptor replied enthusiastically. "After all, it takes many different ones to form a society!"

Yoketron chuckled. "Indeed. What do you wish to know?"

While they spoke and laughed, Dion trailed behind. He felt left out, forgotten. It wasn't in the same as when Perceptor was with his fellow scientists, though. This felt very different. It boiled beneath his chassis. He felt invaded. Threatened.

For the first time, Ultra Dion felt jealous.

()()()()()

Perceptor sat on the floor in one of the inner rooms of the dojo. His pedes were tucked under him and he tried to sit perfectly still as Yoketron hummed, servos tracing patterns in the air between them. The apprentice said he was reading the scientist's spark energy. It was an advanced technique for helping others relax, releasing bad energy. Dion thought it was a waste of time but didn't say anything. If this was what would make Perceptor feel safe again, who was he to scrutinize it? He instead simply leaned against the back wall, watching.

"You have much stress. Very little bad energy, but much tension. The energy is gathering and building in many areas, instead of dispersing freely," Yoketron informed him. He placed his servos together on Perceptor's chestplate. He then slowly moved them apart. The scientist gasped and moaned, feeling a tingling sensation through that area. It felt light, as if something had been lifted from there. "That spark energy has been dispersed. It had been tangled, akin to wires that have become a knot. They interfere with the natural flow of your energy, causing discomfort and interfering with your focus. A few more dispersals and I will be ready to teach you the basics of meditation."

The treatment continued, Ultra Dion bristling with every gasp, moan, and flushed faceplate. Whatever that cyberninja was doing, it was causing Perceptor's tension to move over to the _him_. The worst yet was when Perceptor suddenly let out a loud, "Ahn!" He then slapped his servos over his mouth in embarrassment. "Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry!" he yelped, muffled through the servos. "I don't know… I mean, I just…"

Yoketron held up a hand. "Do not worry, it is common, especially for your first time. Spark energy, as it implies, is directly linked to your spark. Thusly it is very sensitive. It typically takes stellars before you can get used to it." He then sat back. "At any rate, I have finished. If you were anymore relaxed, you would be sleeping." Perceptor let out a laugh. His sweet, clear laugh…

Dion stood up. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to get out of there. He wasn't supposed to leave his mate's side, but just outside of the door couldn't hurt. So he leaned against the wall out there, ranting in his processor. How dare that apprentice? How dare he make Perceptor moan and cry out like that, then brush it off as if it were nothing? How dare he make him laugh that beautiful laugh that only Dion had caused before? He seethed and huffed, knowing it was immature but unable to stop himself.

"Now, simply clear your processor of all programming…" Yoketron's voice drifted out to him. "You must let go of everything…" There was a light chuckle. "Now, now, no laughing."

"Sorry…"

"I know, it is alright. Simply concentrate on letting it all go. I must take care of something. When I return, I want to see you exactly like this. Do not move a node. And if you fall into recharge, I cannot be held responsible for anything I may have to do to wake you." Another chuckle. "No laughing!" it was said in good humor.

"Right, sorry."

Dion waited for the Circuit-Su apprentice. "You realize that asking him to clear his processor is like asking a student not to learn. It can't be done."

"He will manage," Yoketron wasn't surprised to see him waiting. He gestured away from the dojo, away from Dion's charge. The soldier hesitated. "Do not worry. The Alkaline Dojo is perhaps the safest place on Cybertron. It is filled with those who are mastering the cyber martial arts. No Destron would attack it, and if they did they would not get far."

Dion hesitated a moment longer, looking back at Perceptor, who sat cross-peded on the floor, optics shuddered, peaceful and defenseless. He finally took a breath and followed. Yoketron was right, there wouldn't be any harm. "I can't help it. It's been almost hardwired into my programming by now."

"Such is the way of bondmates."

"I suppose, I…" Dion stopped short. "Wait, you… how did you know?"

"I suspected when we met. While your constant presence is to be expected from a bodyguard, you stand closer to him than one would, coil like a serpent when any you do not know approaches. I could even feel your tension when I was releasing it from him. Which brings me to that. I traced his spark energy, as you know. I know it now better than he possibly does. While it was taut in many places, built from stress, the place that usually holds such signs was devoid of such stress. His spark itself is light. As if it no longer knows such things as anxiety, even if the rest of him seems to bottle it up to the point of bursting."

Dion stared at him a moment, then sighed, continuing their stride across the well-kept grounds of the Alkaline Dojo. Past mechs and femmes who looked at him curiously. They were very different from him. Like Yoketron and Master Kaidon, they were built for both dexterity and strength, lithe but well-built. Some had frames that reminded him of his bondmate, slight frames with light armor for stealth and speed. But Perceptor wasn't built for either, simply for easy maneuvering around a cluttered office and room.

"You do not think it a good idea for him to be here," Yoketron said. It wasn't even a question, he simply stated it.

Dion nodded after a moment. "Yeah. I mean, it's not that I don't think he can do it, I just…"

"Do not think he can do it?"

Dion cringed. The sly look Yoketron carried was wizened far beyond his centuries. "Look, don't tell him I admitted it, okay? He just… isn't made for this. It's just another whim, something he wanted to dabble in because it peaked his curiosity. In a deca-cycle, when all of this is done, he'll push it into the back of his processor in favor of the next big thing he wants to study. The only reason he wants to learn how to defend himself for now is because he's a bit shaken up. But in a few orbitals he'll forget it happened and bury himself back in his work."

"Not to sound as if I know him better than you, since for very clear reasons you are much better learned than I of his behavior, but it sounds as if you have little faith in his ability to dedicate himself to anything that is not his science."

"It's just… you know, it's what he was sparked for. He does it better than anyone else I know, even Crosscut, though Percy'd never admit it himself."

Yoketron smiled and shook his head. "Dion, do you think all of these bots were sparked to be cyber-ninjas? Were _you_ sparked to be a soldier?"

"Well, no. But the war is making a lot of bots have to become things they don't know anything about. Before this, I only knew what a soldier was from watching the Destron forces."

"And what causes you to think that maybe that is what is happening to Perceptor?"

Dion opened his mouth, then closed it. He shook his head, making a frustrated sound. "It's… it's different."

"Different how?"

"It just is, okay?!" the soldier snapped. Some of the bots around them stopped and stared at the outburst. Dion looked sheepish, moving on. "Look, I was just an errand-bot. When the Destrons rebelled, they didn't have use for bots like me anymore. They needed soldiers, so that's what I became. But we still _need_ Percy's skills. Pit, we need them more now than we did before the war!" He sighed. "I know he has big dreams. He wants to break out of the lab and see other worlds. But… I just don't see that _happening_ right now. We all need to make sacrifices for the war. He knows that as well as I do."

"Does he?"

"I know you're trying to help," Dion stopped again, rubbing his optics with his thumb and fore-servos. "And I appreciate that. But I'm just… just worried. Percy's the most important thing in the world to me. I can't _lose_ him."

"Ultra Dion," the apprentice put a hand on his shoulder plate, "I know you fear for him. But a few solar cycles studying Circuit-Su cannot harm him. I will take it as easy as possible. He will learn to meditate for his processor-health. Learn some basic methods of self-defense to keep with him in case of an emergency. I will not push him too hard, I promise. I could feel his fear when I traced his energy. If this makes him feel safer, there can be no harm, only good."

Dion took a deep breath through his vents, contemplating all of this. He then deflated, giving in. "You're right. I'm sorry." He held out a servo. "But if you hurt him in any way, I will hurt you back. Got it?"

Yoketron chuckled taking the servo. "Understood. And I apologize for his reactions during the releasing of his energies. I promise, they were not intentional."

Dion analyzed him for a moment, then finally smiled. "It's okay. Just don't let it happen again."

Yoketron nodded, smiling. He then gestured back to the dojo they left Perceptor in. "Shall we return before my student falls into recharge from inactivity?"

Dion chuckled. "Sure." He stopped short, though, as he recognized a soldier running across the dojo to him. "Kup, what's going on?"

"Sorry to interrupt your conversing, or whatever you're doing, but you're gettin' called," Kup announced, producing a datapad. He was a young, teal mech with plenty of energy. He tended to exaggerate a lot, loving to tell a good, long story to anyone who would listen, but was reliable and a good soldier.

"What do you mean, I'm getting called? For what?" Dion clicked through the pad and the more he read he dreaded. "Why couldn't they contact me over commlink instead of sending you."

"I dunno. Sounds like a really big assignment, like a promoter. That'd definitely explain them wasting my talents to be a messenger. Too dangerous to talk about over an open link or somethin', I guess. Don't tell anyone I told you this, but I heard you're in the running for one of the first Minors."

"I can't leave, Percy's just started his training!" Dion argued, trying to hand back the pad.

"I know, and I said you'd never take it. A million Destrons couldn't pry you away from that geek of yours, but they said to get you to them even if I had to knock you out and carry you there over my shoulder," Kup shrugged, pushing the pad back. "Don't make me have to do that, because you know I would. Oh, hey, sorry." He gave a short wave to Yoketron.

"Oh, Kup, this is Yoketron, he's an apprentice under Master Kaidon. Yoketron, this is Kup, we went to the Academy together," Dion introduced.

"A pleasure," Yoketron bowed.

"Likewise. But anyway, this assignment's supposed to be the biggest one you'll ever get in your lifecycle, you have to go, Dion," the teal soldier turned back to his blue and white Academy buddy.

Dion hesitated, looking at Yoketron. "Do not worry, I will watch him. As I said before, he will be perfectly safe here in the dojo."

"Alright, I'll go. It better not extend past five solar cycles, though," Dion finally agreed.

"Good, I'll get to save my moves for the battlefield," Kup grinned. He then led the way out, beginning what would likely turn into another long anecdote. "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time a glitch mouse crawled in my cooling vents and everyone thought I had lost my processor cause I couldn't get it out…?"

Yoketron chuckled and returned to his student, who still diligently sat exactly where as he had been left. "Perceptor," the gold, white and black ninjabot put a hand on his shoulder.

Perceptor's optics onlined and he looked up at him. "How was that?" he asked.

Yoketron smiled. "Only you can tell. It wasn't a long meditation, but there is something you must be informed of. Ultra Dion was called away by his superiors."

The scientist jumped to his pedes. "What?! He… he left?" he couldn't seem to believe it. "But… but he's not supposed to leave me…"

"It is alright…" Yoketron said calmly. "He will return before your training is complete. You are in good hands here." He reached out and gently touched his faceplate soothingly. "I have a feeling he is going on a mission you cannot follow him on. Until it is done, this is the safest place for you. I feel that is likely why they called upon him now." Perceptor didn't reply, simply looking lost. "Would you like to continue? If not, I will escort you to your temporary rooming."

"I…" the scientist looked unsure. He then took a deep breath, looking up again. "I'd like to continue."

Yoketron smiled and nodded. Perceptor smiled back. There was something comforting about the apprentice ninjabot. "Good, then you must tell me. How did meditating feel?"

"Oddly… freeing. I cannot remember the last time I didn't _process_ something. It felt like I hadn't a responsibility to my designation for once," Perceptor recounted, smiling a bit.

"Good, that is a very good response."

There was a mild comfortable silence in which they simply stood. Perceptor contemplated his peaceful state during the meditation. Yoketron in turn analyzed the slightly younger mech before him. Where could he start that would be just challenging enough, without overdoing it for such a sheltered creature? Despite his ninjabot training, he nearly jumped out of his chassis when a slight hand reached up and covered the still-lingering servos that remained on the scientist's faceplate.

"Ahem," Yoketron cleared his throat components, pulling the servos back. Perceptor seemed to snap out of his daze, looking embarrassed. "Let us begin with stance. Follow my lead." It was odd. And… a bit overwhelming. He knew he should have never even deigned to touch the scientist. He was happily bonded to Ultra Dion. And the ninjabot _knew_ he belonged to someone else. Besides that, he couldn't think of such things. He dedicated his lifecycle to his training, he didn't have time to think of romance. He had to get his mind off of it. He had to keep it on the training…

()()()()()

Perceptor lay on the berth in the room he had been given. It was nearby Yoketron's, in case he needed anything. Most students of the dojo lived or worked nearby, and so didn't stay in the dojo. The room he occupied he had to himself. It was simple, a berth, a desk, and shelf space. He had wasted no time in covering the desk with datapads and shelf with a few mods he was working on. It made him feel like he was home. Or it should have, anyway.

"…Dion…" he whispered into the darkness. There was no answer, of course. For the first time in twelve stellar cycles he slept alone. There was no warm chassis to snuggle against, just an uncomfortably empty metal berth. And for the first time in twelve stellar cycles… he felt lonely.

He took his mind off of it by thinking of his training that solar cycle. The meditation had indeed been blissful. He would have to remember how to do that in the future to ward off further stress. And Yoketron had said he was pleasantly surprised at how quickly Perceptor was learning. The scientist waved it off by saying it was simply his processor's ability to pick up such things. They came to an understanding that, though he could quickly pick up the stances and moves, he was simply recording and replaying what he saw. He didn't fully understand how to truly utilize a lot of it. But his teacher told him not to worry about it. He would be able to use it when it was needed, if it was needed, well enough to take any Destron rebel by surprise. Yoketron was a kind, calming influence. His voice was always even and understanding, and he was patient with the small mistakes, understanding well that this was simply a young bot who needed to learn how to defend himself, not a dedicated student to the martial arts.

Perceptor reached up to his faceplate and mimicked the gentle touch he had felt only a few megacycles ago. It had felt like Dion's touch, strong but gentle. Soothing. He had imagined it as such, which was what led to the slightly awkward moment they shared. But Perceptor could still imagine it as such. He imagined Dion's servos trailing down his cheek, his neck, across his chestplate… down to his pelvic plating…

He let out a small gasp. His hand had unconsciously traced over the familiar trail, craving his bondmate's touch. It felt wonderful, though. Keeping Dion in the foremost of his processor, his other servos reached down, brushing against the inside of his thigh, up to the wonderfully sensitive wires between the thigh and pelvic plating. He'd felt the soldier's servos touch them so many time, but never before had he paused to experiment with feeling them himself. He bit his bottom lip component to quell a moan as he pinched and tweaked at the wires, left servos tracing patterns across his thin abdomen and pelvic plating. He shuttered his optics, imagining Dion hovering above him, touching him. His glossa ran across soft lip components as he felt his kisses. A moan escaped, breath coming out in sweet gasps as the right servos left his wiring and moved to the back, arching his back so he could run them across his aft.

"Ah…!" Perceptor let out a small cry as he let his pelvic plating retract. He experimented with touching his sensitive plug, skimming his servos over it. He had honestly never touched himself in such a way before, always depending on Dion's rough hands to work him over. But there was something slightly intoxicating about the gentle ministrations his own servos impulsively traced. His right servos cautioned a feel around the rim of his port. With Dion there to touch him, he'd never stopped to process how sensitive it was. "Dion…" he whispered to his distant lover. He could almost feel the other's spark pulling at his own. He dipped two servos into the tight tubing of his port, testing the waters. There was an almost immediate rushing of pleasure through his port, across his chassis, and into his plug, which throbbed with need. So he pushed them in farther, grasping at his plug and moaning loudly. It felt so wonderful…

"D-Dion!" he finally cried out, pulling the servos out and thrusting them back in, pumping his plug in time with it. He added another servo, stretching the tubing further. Pulling them out and thrusting them back in again and again in a steady rhythm, shuttering his optics tight, squeezing his plug as he rubbed it. "Ah… ah! Nnh! Ah!" He moaned and cried as he fingered and pumped himself faster, "Dion! Ah, Di…on!" His chestplate opened willingly to his blazing spark, the powerful life force seeming to scream itself for its missing other half. "Nah… ah!" Perceptor let go of his plug covering his mouth to keep from getting too loud as he thrust his servos in a few more times and overloaded powerfully, lubricant practically exploding from his plug. His spark flashed harshly, almost as if to express its disappointment in being unable to complete its connection to the one he longed for.

"Ah… hah…" Perceptor panted as he removed the servos from his port, onlining his optics. He knew Dion wouldn't be there. But it still left a slightly empty feeling to not have him waiting after the overload. He looked down at himself, covered in his own lubricant, spark exposed, pelvic plating retracted… and completely alone. He felt foolish and exposed, replacing his pelvic plating and wiping away as much of the sticky substance as he could. But he didn't close his spark, allowing it to call out to his bondmate. He wanted him to hear his pleas. To feel his need.

"Dion…" he gently touched his spark, feeling its warmth. He could feel Dion's warmth inside of it from many nights of sparkbonding. "Can you hear me, Dion…?" he whispered to the darkness, illuminated only by the dim blue glow of his spark. "…I love you…"


	4. One Solar Stand

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Except Slipshot, she belongs to me.**

**Note: **Before anyone asks, no, Slipshot is in no way related to Slip_stream_. Their names just happen to be fairly similar.

**Warnings: This chapter contains sticky sparkbonding between Young!Yoketron and Young!Perceptor. Come on, you had to see this coming last chapter.  
**

**READ & REVIEW ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:**

**Vel Aquiel **- To answer your question… read the chapter, lol. And thank you, I put a lot of effort into Dion and Percy.

**TFA-Fan-Chick**, **Wheeljack-Sparrow**, and **dragoneyes171986 **- Thanks for all of your reading and reviewing! And thank you for your patience getting this chapter out! And remember everyone, reviews fuel my need to keep writing giant robot smut!

**Chapter 4****  
One Solar Stand**

"Good. Remember when pivoting that it is all about momentum."

"I'm a scientist. I know a few things about momentum."

"What did I say about talking back to your sensei?"

"Sorry." The apology came with a light chuckle. Perceptor couldn't help it. Yoketron was simply so easy to be around, so comfortable to talk to. After training they would sit down to some mild-grade and just talk about anything they could think of. Yoketron explained the history of the Alkaline Dojo and their martial arts. Perceptor would ramble on about the scientific details of what he learned and Yoketron didn't just smile and nod, he could respond and understand. His spark still cried out for his bondmate, but having a companion helped ease the pain.

"Perceptor," Yoketron startled him out of his thoughts. "You seem distracted."

The scientist looked sheepish. "Forgive me. I simply feel…" he trailed off. It seemed silly when he really thought about it.

Yoketron smiled gently and gestured to the table where they usually sat and spoke. "Come, your progress has been above all expectations. We may take a break." They soon sat on the ground at the low table, mild-grade energon at their servos. "Now, please tell me. What is troubling you?"

Perceptor stared into his cup. "It's just… I've never been separated from Dion, not since I met him I mean. And suddenly… here I am. And… and he's not. It's been four solar cycles. I am supposed to return tomorrow, but I feel that I cannot without him. He has not even contacted me, I'm sure for good reason, and I am sure he's still online. But… having him not here leaves me feeling… empty."

Yoketron sat silently listening. He nodded in understanding. "He will return, I am sure. If you require more time to wait for him here, I will discuss it with Master Kaidon." He placed his servos on Perceptor's reassuringly. "I promise, we will not cast you out if you feel you must stay."

Perceptor smiled gratefully. _'Yoketron is right,' _he told himself. _'Dion will return soon.'_

()()()()()

"Go! Go! Go!"

"Watch your back, we've got Destrons at all sides! Teams 3 and 4, take the East entrance! Team 2, try to recover the scientists! Team 1, you're with me!"

Dion felt a rush as he barked orders. The 'promotion' was sudden, as their leader, Helix, had been shot through the spark chamber on Solar Two of the raid on the Destron hideout, but it felt somehow natural to him. He had only lost one soldier in the last two solars and the Destrons were starting to panic and try to escape. Team 5 was spread out to intercept the stragglers, though, so only a few got through. The base held a few captured Autobot scientists, which was their main objective. And Dion was impressed. Even though the Autobot army wasn't as well trained or built for combat as the Destrons, they held their own and fought like they were manufactured for it.

He felt Kup slap him on the back as they held the defensive line, keeping the Destrons at the front entrance busy. "You're a natural, 'Commander'! Sure you don't wanna ditch your job as a bodyguard and join us here on the front?"

"Don't even joke about that," Dion warned. "As soon as we get those scientists and take out this base I'm heading back to where I belong."

Kup raised his hands in surrender. "I was just kiddin'! Still having spark problems?" He casually pulled off a shot on a charging Destron, taking off an arm. He had been testing weapons before his call of duty, so shooting a laser rifle came as naturally to him as it did any seasoned soldier. The injured Destron quickly retreated back to his forces.

"I keep feeling like my spark is trying to rip from its chamber and fly off on its own," Dion admitted. "I don't blame it. I feel like I should be there with him. You should see when he's learning. The way his faceplate lights up, the wonder and fascination in his optics. It's… beautiful."

The teal soldier rolled his optics, knocking on his leader's helm. "Cybertron to Ultra Dion! Keep your processor in the battle, loverbot! If you get slagged we'll hafta take orders from Slipshot here, and then we're _all_ slagged."

"Hey!" a pink and blue femme huffed indignantly. "Better than taking orders from you, ya long-winded aft!" She activated a pulse grenade and chucked it into a group of Destrons. After a few kliks of running and panic, it went off and tripled it all. She was a demolitions expert, despite her delicate chassis. She had attended the Academy with them, but had known Kup for far longer, having grown up with him. They acted like siblings most of the time, bickering and calling each other names. "Besides, I think Ultra Dion and Perceptor's relationship is _so_ cute! I mean, they love each other so much! I wish I could find somebot to make me feel that special!" Her optics sparkled as she spoke.

"Well…" Kup began.

"Not _even_ in _your _dreams, Kup!"

"Can't blame a mech for tryin'."

Dion rolled his eyes. "Just shoot and keep your processor off her aft."

"Speak for yourself."

()()()()()

"So, how did you become an accomplished cyberninja?" Perceptor asked.

"The same way as all other students," Yoketron answered patiently. "Hard work and focus."

The scientist smiled. "I gathered that. I meant, what made you become one? Surely bots are not sparked for this." He took a sip of the Mild-Grade before him.

"Some are. But… indeed, I was not," the ninjabot admitted. "I was not given a primary function early in my lifecycle."

"Really?" Perceptor was taken aback. "I wasn't aware that was possible."

"It is extremely rare, considered a defect to most. A bot without a function may as well be sparkless. Or so many had told me."

"That's horrible!"

"Indeed. That is why many functionless Autobots are turning into Destron rebels. Unlike the Autobots, who do nothing to help them, the Destrons offer a purpose." Yoketron shook his head sadly. "I was lucky. I searched for purpose and found this dojo. A few other students here share my story. We are _all_ lucky. We have found discipline and a chance to use what we learn here to find our _own_ purpose. Those who became Destrons will find only darkness, and eventually offlining."

"And… what about you?" Perceptor asked. "What will you do?"

"I plan to succeed Master Kaidon and become the next master of the Alkaline Dojo. To pass on his teachings."

"You will stay here… forever?"

"As long as I must."

"And you choose this?"

"Yes."

Perceptor stared at his cup. "I could not imagine choosing to stay in the Science Division forever. Never leaving."

Yoketron nodded. "Ultra Dion told me you wish to travel worlds. You surely must realize that is not possible until the war is over."

"I know…" the scientist said lightly.

The cyberninja sighed. He hadn't meant to upset the young mech. So he reached across the table and lifted his chin with a servo. "Do not despair. When the war is over you may travel all you wish. And I am sure your bondmate will be there to keep you company every step of the way."

The young scientist brightened a bit, smiling up at his teacher. "You really think so?"

"Of course," the cyberninja smiled and nodded. "Now come, we must resume your training."

()()()()()

"Slipshot!"

Ultra Dion held Kup back as the medibots desperately worked on the pink and blue femme. They had rescued the scientists, captured a few Destrons, and everything seemed to be going smoothly… until they had realized that Slipshot was laying on the ground, internal fluids leaking rapidly. A quick response team of repair bots had come out and brought her back to base. They were now working on trying to stabilize her.

"Let them work, Kup!" Dion snapped at the teal mech. "It's going to be okay!"

"Primus, why didn't we notice… why hadn't we seen 'er get hit, Dion?!" Kup snapped at him.

"We were focusing on the mission, there was nothing we could do," Dion said as steadily as possible, trying not to yell back. Kup was simply under duress. Everyone knew he'd had a thing for Slipshot. A lot of bots thought she might have felt the same, despite what she said. "Don't worry, she'll be okay."

"I…" Kup trailed off, calming down, more from exhaustion than reassurance, though. So much had happened, it was finally catching up to him. "I just… can't believe this is happenin'…"

"It's part of war, Kup. You knew the price of war just as much as anyone else here. It's painful, and hard to deal with, but… you just have to hope for the best and…"

"We're losing her!"

Kup's energy of defiance rekindled quickly at the words. "Waddaya mean we're losin' her?!" he snapped, breaking free of the surprised Dion's grasp. He ran over and hovered over the femme. She looked so helpless. "Don't you offline on me, ya idiot!" he snapped at her. "If you do, I'll never forgive you!"

Slipshot's optics onlined and she gazed up at him hazily. "Kup…" she managed. "You're the idiot… you couldn't even properly… court me before I… offlined…"

Kup ground his dentals together, taking her hand in his servos. "Stay online, and I promise I'll give ya the best courtin' ya ever had!"

The young femme smiled weakly. "You're the worst… romancer ever… but…" her optics offlined. "…thanks for trying…" Her colorful chassis lost its luster, turning grey and dull with offlining.

"No! Don't do this to me! Not now, Slipshot!"

"Sir, she's… gone. I'm sorry," one of the medibots apologized, trying to pull him away. They had to pry her servos out of his.

Dion lowered his head in respect. It was easy to deal with the offline bots when he didn't know them well. But… somebot he went to academy with? It was almost too much. He finally came forward after a few moments, taking Kup by the shoulder. "Come on. You should sit down." He hated to tell himself this, as he had been hoping to return to Alkaline and his own mate that solar, but it wouldn't be right to leave Kup like this. He had to stay, at least until the next solar.

()()()()()

Yoketron was meditating before his recharge when the knock sounded at his room's door. The knock was hesitant, unsure, as if the bot on the other side of the door wasn't sure what he was doing there, despite already have disturbed him. He knew who it was before he even opened the door, looking upon the embarrassed faceplate of his temporary student. "Perceptor. Is there something you need?"

The scientist indeed looked uncertain, pausing before speaking. "I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disturbed you," he apologized lightly.

"No, not at all. Please, come in," the apprentice stepped aside, allowing the younger mech to enter. After a moment he obliged. "Please, tell me what is troubling you."

Perceptor stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around. "It's… unimportant. And rather silly now that I really think about it…" he muttered.

"There is no such thing as an unimportant distress," Yoketron assured him. He sat on the floor cross-peded.

The scientist followed suit, sitting on his pedes instead, facing the ninjabot. "To put it plainly, well… I know Dion will likely return tomorrow, as it is the solar I have been set to leave. But… I just can't stand spending another night alone. I know, it is ridiculous that I have bothered you with such a thing, but I feel I may lose my processor from loneliness."

Yoketron simply listened, nodding in understanding. "That is unsurprising," he assured Perceptor. "According to you both, you have never spent so much time from each other before. I can feel your spark ache for him, even without touching you. It is natural for you to feel some form of emptiness."

An emotion akin to relief seemed to wash over Perceptor's faceplate. "Thank you for understanding. All I wish is to be _near_ somebot right now."

"I am right here for you," Yoketron nodded, smiling gently. He reached out and placed a servo on the other mech's comfortingly. "You may stay here as long as you feel you need."

Perceptor felt it again. That odd feeling he had a few solars ago when Yoketron had touched his faceplate. It was comfortable, almost familiar. As soon as the simple contact was made, it felt like his troubles and fears were washed away. He didn't know why such a simple gesture could make him feel so quelled of his loneliness, but the kind apprentice seemed like exactly what he needed. It made him feel warm, soothed.

Yoketron stared at this pretty scientist sitting before him. He understood the worry Dion felt over him. The jealousy and anger he got when Yoketron traced his sensitive spark energies. He hadn't mentioned to the soldier that the spark energy was more sensitized than any other he'd felt before. That was why he had such a strong reaction to it. He was used to the constant affection, both emotionally and physically, Dion gave him. Yoketron didn't know if that was normal, not having experienced having a bondmate, but it didn't seem healthy to him. This poor mech _needed_ somebot to touch him. That was when he realized it. _He_ was touching him. It wasn't an intimate touch, a simple contact to his faceplate, but it seemed to sooth the young scientist. Made him look so relaxed. So peaceful. So…

They weren't sure how it happened. Not even when. But before they realized what happened Perceptor was straddling the ninjabot's lap, sharing fervent kisses and practically trying to melt into each other. Yoketron wasn't sure how he knew what he was doing, but was working on pure instinct. Running his servos across the smooth, curved chassis, testing every wire and exposed circuit his digits could find.

Where he should have felt ashamed of what he was doing, Perceptor only felt pleasure and heat. It was happening so fast, the part of his processor that wanted to remind him that this was wrong couldn't seem to catch up with the desire the rest of him was feeling. "Y-Yoketron…" he gasped and moaned as he felt the servos brush and pinch sensitive wires.

The cyberninja could scarcely believe this was happening. He'd sworn to abstain for the sake of his martial arts, to keep his focus purely where it belonged. But now that he'd started… he felt as if he couldn't stop. All of the discipline of his training could never prepare him for this. "Perceptor this… this is not…"

Perceptor silenced him with a servo, staring at him with those bright blue optics. "I know. Please just… don't. I… I need this."

Yoketron opened his mouth to argue further, but then closed it. He knew Perceptor was correct. He did need this. Primus forgive him for what he had to do. So instead he pulled the scientist back down and kissed him gently. Pelvic plating retracted and the young scientist positioned Yoketron's plug at his port, pushing himself down on it. The cyberninja gritted his dentals as the tight tubing descended around his thick plug. It was an entire new experience, a bit painful but pleasurable and exhilarating.

The red and green mech above him moaned and arched his back, moving himself up and down on the throbbing plug and crying out. "Aa… ah!" he grasped Yoketron's shoulder plate with his left servos, right ones finding their way to his own plug and pumping it with him. Yoketron had never seen such a sight as the gorgeous pleasure upon Perceptor's delicate faceplate.

That was when he felt it. He knew what it was. The pulling sensation of his spark. The need building in it for a connection. No. That was where Yoketron drew the line. Perceptor wasn't his to bond with. It was wrong to even consider it.

But again, as before, he wasn't sure how or when, something happened between that thought and the few moments later and their chestplates were open and connected, sparks exchanging their precious energy. Their lip components locked feverishly as their sparks danced and Yoketron finally let the last thread of control he had go, grasping the moving hips of his partner and holding them still as he thrust his plug up into him. Perceptor threw his head back and cried out, and the sinfully wrong pleasure finally came to a climax.

()()()()()

"Did I ever tell ya 'bout th' time me'n Slipshot broke 'nta th' weapon cache…"

"And stole two grenades and blew up your neighbor's energon farm? Three times in the last megacycle."

"Oh… really…? How many cubes 'm I on?"

"This would be your fourth."

"'S tha' too much?"

"Usually. You feeling better yet?"

"…nope. I need more…"

Kup stood up and staggered to the container that held the High Grade energon cubes. Dion shook his head. He watched his best friend down cube after cube for the last few megacycles. He was so overcharged Dion was surprised he was still conscious, let alone standing. Kup had always been known for being able to hold his energon.

At that moment there was a twinge in his spark. It wasn't the same kind he'd been having the last few solars. It was more painful. An overwhelming, almost disconnected feeling. Almost as if Perceptor's spark had stopped calling to him. At first, he feared the worst. Had something happened?

'No,' his processor reassured him. 'If he'd been harmed, or… worst, I would have felt it.'

Dion relaxed in knowing that. Perceptor was safe, unharmed. But then… why? His bondmate's spark felt almost… quelled.

'Only one thing could quell Percy's aching spark,' his processor spoke up once again. 'However, _you_ are _here_.'

"No," Dion muttered, shaking his helm again. "No, Percy wouldn't. It's gotta be something else. Probably… probably nothing. I'm just overreacting."

"Ya a'ight?" Kup asked, flopping down next to him again.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just low on energy. Pass me a cube. I think I need one."

()()()()()

The two mechs in Alkaline sat in silence. Neither could believe that had just… _happened_.

"Primus…" Perceptor said lightly through his servos, covering his faceplate. He sat with his back to the cyberninja apprentice, who rubbed his own faceplate with one hand and tried to comprehend what had just taken place. "Oh, Primus…" the scientist repeated. "What… what have I done…?"

Yoketron shook his head, sighing. "No. It is my fault. I forgot my discipline. Gave into my emotions. I took advantage of your loneliness… and I apologize. I know it is not enough, and likely will never be, but I am sincerely sorry."

Perceptor looked back at him. He looked so distraught, it made Yoketron's spark clench in shame. They could feel each other's emotions and despair through their still lingering bond. "No, it was mine. I… I knew I shouldn't have been seeking your companionship tonight. I was afraid it would end like this. But still… I did. And now…" he trailed off, coming to a horrible realization. "What… what am I going to tell Dion? I mean… I _can't_ tell Dion! But…"

"I know it is not my place to say, especially as I was also at fault, but perhaps honesty would be the best course of action. Tell him the truth. If he truly cares for you he will understand."

"I… know you're right. And I know I should, but… I can't. I… I just can't…" Perceptor replied. "Please… don't tell him either."

"It is your decision, I will not try to convince you otherwise. And if he does hear, it will not be from me."

"Thank you, Yoketron…" There was an awkward moment of silence. "I… I should get back to my own room." The scientist stood shakily, not making optic contact as the lubricant ran down his thighs. Yoketron turned his gaze away respectfully, shamed of what he had done. He couldn't believe he had lost control like that. The younger mech retreated quickly, leaving the cyberninja alone once again.

Left to his solitude, Yoketron crossed his pedes, laid his servos upon his lap, and returned to his meditation. But for once he couldn't concentrate, could not calm his processor and relax his spark. For when he shuttered his optics he could still see Perceptor's beautiful pleasure, and in his spark he could still feel his despair.

()()()()()

"Dion!"

"Percy!"

The reunion the next solar cycle reminded Dion of those romantic holovids Slipshot had always loved. The way Perceptor ran to him as if it had been five centuries instead of five solars. How the soldier literally lifted his bondmate off of his pedes embracing him, refusing to let go. And how they almost tried to melt into each other as they expressed their joy not through words but through emotions. He was a bit taken aback when the scientist nuzzled against his chestplate.

"Percy…?"

Perceptor's optics gazed up at him. He looked so happy to see him, how could Dion have even thought of infidelity? "I can feel your spark. I've missed it so much. I've missed _you_." He reached up and placed gentle servos on Dion's faceplate. "I love you."

The blue and white mech smiled, leaning down and kissing his bondmate. He'd missed the taste of his kisses. "I love you, too. I promise, I won't leave you like that again."

Perceptor smiled back warmly, nuzzling him once more before turning back to the two cyberninjas there to see him off. He bowed to Master Kaidon. "Thank you, Master, for allowing my short visit to the dojo. I apologize for any inconvenience."

"You were no inconvenience," the elder mech bowed in return. "I apologize myself, for my behavior when you first arrived. You proved to work just as hard as my students, if for a short time. You may return at anytime, if you so wish to."

Perceptor then turned to Yoketron. He bowed to him as well, though now there was an air of awkwardness around them. "Thank you as well. For taking the time to teach me, and for helping me through my loneliness."

"You are welcome," Yoketron returned the gesture. "If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to contact me. And… please, consider my advice."

The two ninjabots watched them leave in silence. After a moment, though, Master Kaidon spoke. "You will, I hope, take responsibility for your actions." He gazed at his startled student. "Yoketron, this is my dojo, and you are my apprentice. Not much escapes my notice.

"Forgive me for-"

Kaidon held up a servo for silence. "I never forbade you from romance. You chose that path yourself, as did I. However, I cannot condone that you have sparkbonded with an already bonded bot. The most appropriate punishment for it, however, will be that you have to live with what you have done, and take responsibility not only for what it will cause, but what it will create."

"I under-" Yoketron stopped as he comprehended exactly what had been said. "Master…?"

()()()()()

"For actions and leadership above and beyond the call of duty, the capture of seven Destron rebels, and the successful rescue of four Autobot scientists, we hereby induct you, Ultra Dion, into the newly established Autobot Elite Guard and allow you the honor of being among the first to achieve the rank of Minor, and so give you the new designation… Ultra Minor."

Perceptor, Counterbalance, and Road Rage, standing among the other members of the Science Division with Crosscut, applauded enthusiastically as Dion's chestplate was emblazoned with the symbol of the Elite Guard. The Head of Science was far less ecstatic about the event, but still joined the applause as a formality. The other members of his team during the mission were also promoted to Elite Guard, including honorary induction for those who'd lost their lifecycles in the battle.

"Honorary induction…" Kup muttered bitterly as the Magnus spoke. "She gave 'er lifecycle fer those geeks, and all she gets is a shiny new sigil."

"What were you expecting?" Dion whispered back. "She's offline, Kup. It's sad, and we'll all miss her, but no matter what they do they can't bring her back. The best they _can_ do is honor her memory as a soldier."

"Yeah. As a soldier. Not as a femme, not even as a bot."

"Kup…"

"Save it, Dion. Pardon me, Ultra _Minor_. Ya wouldn't understand, you've got yer happy endin'. A promotion, new title, and… well, jus' look there in the audience. Ya even got a more-than-warm, happy welcome home. All I got is a new sigil and a lot'a memories."

()()()()()

Dion gently stroked his bondmate's side as they lay together on their berth. It seemed like it'd been a lot longer than five solars since they last had lay like that. Kup had been right. He was lucky. This was his happy ending. And it was pure bliss, which made him feel all the more guilty that his best friend had to suffer losing the femme he loved before they could have ever been like this. And Slipshot… she wanted to be able to experience this kind of happiness more than anything.

"Dion?" Perceptor looked at him puzzled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the soldier smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. Just… thinking."

"About your friend you lost?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"No," the younger mech snuggled into him. "I just know you. It wasn't your fault. Or your friend, um…"

"Kup."

"Yes, him. Neither of you are to blame for it."

"I know," Dion sighed. "I honestly don't blame myself for it as much as Kup does. He's so… angry about it. It just makes me think."

"Of what?" the scientist looked back up at him again.

Dion hesitated for a moment. "Of… what I would do. If I lost you."

"You won't. I'm right here," Perceptor gently kissed him. "I'll be here forever."

"Forever's a long time. And I thought I'm supposed to assure _you_ that we'll always be together," Dion grinned.

"And why aren't you?" the red and green mech teased him.

The soldier chuckled. "You're right. We'll always have each other. No matter what the war does, it can't change how I feel about you. I'll always protect you. Unless you mastered Circuit-Su while I was gone."

Perceptor smiled slyly. "Maybe. Want to find out?"

Dion laughed. "No, thank you. I actually wouldn't put it past you, and I'd rather not be put in stasis." He kissed Perceptor, nuzzling his faceplate into the scientist's neck components and kissing and nipping the wires there.

"Dion!" Perceptor giggled and gasped.

"I love you, Percy. More than anything in the universe, I love you," the blue and white mech's vocals were muffled in his neck.

Perceptor felt his spark clench. Being with him again here and now, feeling his servos upon his chassis again and their sparks finally able to connect again… he felt more guilty than ever. Yoketron was right. He had to tell him what happened. "…Dion?"

Dion stopped. Perceptor's voice sounded troubled. So he pulled back and looked at him. His optics weren't any better. This was important. Did it have to do with the other solar…? "What is it, Percy?"

"Dion, I…" he tried to put it in words, but looking at Dion, he found they were lost. How could he have done it? How could he have betrayed the mech that loved and trusted him? The worst thing he could do was break his spark. "…nevermind. It's nothing. I love you, too."


	5. Creators

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own anything. I will never own anything. The only thing I _do_ own is Ivee. So please don't steal her. K-thanks.

**Note: **Primus, I'm so sorry for this long, long wait! I swear, it's not my fault! Anyone who's been keeping up will know that my external hard drive died a few months ago and I lose _everything_. That meant I had to re-type this entire chapter (not to mention the new chapters of all the _other_ fanfics I have to do, including requests), and I was very slow on doing that because having to do so made me a bit uncommitted to it. But see, it's done now! So no hurting the authoress, k?

**Note 2: **Anyone who read my fanfic Snow will recognize a young version of Ivee here. I couldn't resist. If I was going to do young versions of old bots, why not a young version of one of mine?

**Note 3: **I didn't put how long it's been between this chapter and last because there's so many theories of how long it takes before a sparkling is sparked. I'll let you decide.

**Warnings: **More Young!Ultra Magnus/Young!Perceptor romantics, but nothing dirty this chapter. I know, sorry guys!

**READ & REVIEW ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

**Vel Aquiel **and **Koolcatx0x** - Thanks so much for the reviews guys, I really appreciate it! And come on, the rest of you! Only two reviews last chapter? You make an authoress sad!

Chapter 5  
Creators

"Wait, are you sure that circuit goes there?"

"No, no, I'm sure he got it wrong."

"Shhh, you're distracting him! Let him work!"

Ultra Minor, formerly Ultra Dion, chuckled. He watched a group of scientists gathering around his bondmate, whispering and vocalizing in awe as he worked. As the war became more violent and the Decepticons more dangerous, the demand for higher quality weapons and modifications rose. While many of the scientists were skilled at such, none shined brighter than Perceptor. He made weapons and modifications an art form to his scientists, raising the bar with every new creation.

Dion also worried for him, however. While there hadn't been another attempt on his lifecycle since he returned from the dojo, the young scientist seemed distracted, even a bit distraught. At times, he looked a bit dizzy, perhaps even nauseous, but always waved it off as mild exhaustion. The soldier didn't push the subject, however. Every time he tried to bring it up Perceptor would simply bury himself further into his work and ignore him. He was stretching himself quite thin in the first place, and the extra work surely wasn't helping.

"And…" the elite accent drifted out from the middle of the group, causing the other scientists to lean in. "…done!"

Perceptor stood up, small frame still obscured by the other scientists. They parted, however, as he stepped forward, carrying a laser rifle.

"Well, it _looks_ good. But does it work?" one of the scientists asked.

"That is what Dion is here to demonstrate for us," the head of science's assistant smiled, turning to his bondmate. "Dion?"

The soldier stood up, having been waiting for this. While Perceptor was quite adept at building firearms, he had never yet fired one. He didn't prefer to do so, passing the honor to his lover's capable hands. "Alright, let's see what your processor has cooked up this time," Dion grinned. He took the rifle and aimed at the target on the other side of the testing range. Perceptor had taken to working on his fire arms there, in order to tweak them as needed by immediate tests of their systems.

Dion fired, bracing himself against the inevitable kickback as a powerful beam of energy flashed into the target, not only hitting it but causing a small explosion which exterminated the center.

His bodyguard whistled low. "Very impressive, Percy."

Perceptor smiled modestly, though didn't object to the compliment. "It wasn't very hard. I simply recalibrated the firing mechanism to release concussive fire instead of simple laser fire."

"Amazing!" one of the scientists, a young femme, cooed.

"Fess up, how many of us were braced for an explosion?" another scientist asked.

A good chunk of them raised their hands.

"Hey!" Perceptor huffed, but then laughed with the others.

Dion smiled, shaking his head. It was amazing how much more socially adjusted his bondmate was, all of these stellar cycles later. There wasn't an ounce of that shy, withdrawn mech he'd first met, the one who wouldn't even speak. That side of him only ever came out again around…

"Excuse me!"

The scientists all jumped and turned around, looking like younglings with their hands in the energon jar. "Crosscut!" the young femme who spoke before yelped, looking nervous.

Crosscut had become harder on his scientists since the inquiry. He seemed to bottle up all of his frustration at Ultra Minor and snap it like a rubber band at those who worked for him. Road Rage stood behind her employer, looking sympathetic to those who were about to suffer his wrath. "I do believe you all have work to do, so why are you loitering around here?" When there wasn't a response to be heard, no one wanting to cause trouble for Perceptor, his optics narrowed. "Out! Now! Get back to work! All of you!"

The scientists scattered like glitch mice, running out with yelped, "Yessir!"s. Only Perceptor, who was technically exactly where he needed to be anyway, and his bodyguard remained.

So Crosscut turned to them, glancing at the laser rifle in Dion's servos and the smoldering target behind him. "I should have known you'd be in the center of all of this," he muttered. "You think you have the right to waste my scientists' time because the Council likes you _so_ much, is that it?"

Dion glared back, but didn't say anything, not wanting to get his suddenly very silent bondmate in trouble either. He then held out the laser rifle, letting the Head of Science put the pieces together.

Crosscut stared at it a moment before taking it and looking it over. "What is this?" he demanded.

"Concussive laser rifle," Perceptor quickly said. Something was off about it, though. It sounded almost painful to speak at that moment. His left servos were pressed against his chestplate in what seemed akin to discomfort.

The Head of Science didn't notice. "This is what took you all solar cycle to make? A simple adjustment of a standard issue laser rifle?" he snapped. "I'm disappointed in you, Perceptor! You can do far better work than this, yet you insist upon sticking to the most basic forms of modification! Are you listening to me?"

The young scientist's right servos were grasping his helm, optics shuttered tight in pain. "I… I'm sorry, sir… I just… I'm suddenly a bit dizzy…"

"This is no time to be feigning viral to escape chastising! To think you'd resort to such proto-"

"Crosscut, I don't think he's faking it!" Road Rage pushed her startled employer out of the way as Perceptor's knees buckled, the young assistant collapsing into her arms.

"Percy!" Dion rushed forward, kneeling down next to him. "Percy, what's wrong?"

Perceptor shook his helm, optics still squeezed shut in pain. He couldn't even bring himself to speak.

"Don't just stand there!" Road Rage snapped at Dion, handing over his bondmate. "Get him to the repair bay!"

The soldier stood for a moment before nodding, taking off out of the room. As he left he could hear the still shocked Crosscut being chastised by his now irate bodyguard.

()()()()()

It was megacycles after he handed Perceptor over to the medibots when one of them finally emerged. She was a rust-red femme, a bit bulky for a bot of her profession. When she opened her mouth, he heard a thick accent that reminded him of Kup. "Ultra Minor? I'm Ivee, Perceptor's in mah care while he's here. Now, ya wanna hear the good news first?" she drawled. She didn't mince words, but instead cut straight to the point.

The bodyguard swallowed a lump in his hydraulics. Good news. That implied bad news. "S-sure…" he nodded lightly. He'd never felt so helpless in his lifecycle.

"Th' good news is yer bondmate's gonna be fine, barrin' a lil' rest."

Dion let out the air he was holding in his vents. That was better than good news, that was _great_ news. "What's the bad news?" he asked slowly.

Ivee looked a bit unsure for a moment how to say it. "Well… we're doin' ev'rythin' we can, but… see, Perceptor's overworked himself too much. He's burnin' through energon and oil too fast fer th' both of 'em."

Dion nodded. "He has been working an awful lot lately. That does sound… wait, both-?"

"Now, we've been doin' what we can," Ivee cut him off without seeming to notice. "And we suspect it'll be fine, but we'll need ta keep 'im under close watch fer a few solar cycles to make sure they'll both be fine."

"Wait, you said it again!" Ultra Minor cut in. "You said 'both'!"

"Well, yeah," the medic looked confused. "Him an' the sparklin'."

The soldier stared at her a moment, as if trying to determine if this was some twisted joke. "_What_ sparkling?" he yelped.

"Ya didn't _know_?" Ivee asked incredulously, sizing him up. "He _musta_ been overworkin' fer neither of ya ta notice!"

"Notice _what_?" Dion's spark clenched as he knew the answer before she said it.

"Congratulations, Ultra Minor!" Ivee happily slapped his shoulder plate. "Yer gonna be a creator!"

He simply stared at her for a moment, not knowing exactly what reaction would be appropriate for that bit of information. He was happy, surprised, and a little frightened by the news all at once.

So Ultra Minor, the first to be promoted to such in the Elite Guard, natural leader, and proven soldier, promptly fainted.

()()()()()

A while later, after Ivee had revived the shaken Ultra Minor, Dion found himself sitting in the recovery bay where Perceptor was recharging soundly. He simply watched him, unable to think straight. His bondmate was with _spark_. They were going to be _creators_. It should have been the happiest news he'd ever heard. Should have made his spark jump out of his chestplate and dance across the compound. But instead… he was scared.

Not of the concept of having a sparkling with his beloved scientist, but of what Ivee had told him after he finally woke up. The sparkling was in danger.

Because Perceptor was so overworked with orders for new weapons and modifications that he'd worked both himself and the sparkling into a dangerous state. The dizziness, the nausea, the chestplate pain and helmaches. They were indeed exhaustion, but it was brought about because he was burning energon and oil at an accelerated rate to keep energy flowing to him and his sparkling. When that energon and oil, and thus the energy became scarce, however, his entire body shut down to preserve him, even temporarily cutting the flow to the sparkling. He was given enough in the repair bay to return his systems to normal, but the medibots feared the repercussions of a sparkling temporarily deprived of a constant flow of energy.

"Mmm…" Perceptor's optics came online slowly, a fuzzy feeling flowing through him. He glanced around the room as they began to focus, gaze finally falling on Dion. He smiled. "Hello, handsome…" he muttered.

"Hey, Percy," Dion took his bondmate's servos, smiling reassuringly. "So… when were you going to tell me you had a sparkling in there?"

The scientist looked a bit confused for a moment before his groggy processor finally recalled what he was talking about. "Oh… I didn't know until the medics told me. They said I had to have been really overworking for me to not even notice another little spark in my own…" His faceplate fell into a look of concern. "But… they told me it was in danger. I don't remember much else before they made me rest… did they say anything else to you?"

Dion shook his head, gently stroking the thin servos under his. "Not much. They say they're doing what they can, though. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be alright." He leaned up, gently kissing his bondmate's forehead. "I won't let anything happen to either of you."

Perceptor smiled again. It was such a sweet, beautiful smile. It made Dion feel even more protective of them. He had to protect that smile, and the smile that would be his sparkling's. He had to think of that again. His _sparkling_. What a wonderful concept.

"Ah, I see yer awake," the drawling accent from the door indicated the entrance of Ivee. She walked over, datapad under her arm. "How're ya feelin' now?"

Perceptor thought a moment before answering. "My helm still aches a bit, but I think I am alright."

"Well, th' alright part isn't fer you to decide," Ivee poked his forehead where Dion's lip components had been a klik ago. "Yer a lucky bot, I've seen far more stronger mechs than ya buckle under sparklin' exhaustion an' neither of them make it."

Perceptor swallowed nervously.

"However," she continued, ignoring her own lack of proper berthside manner. "You'll be fine after a bit more rest. Yer sparklin'll pro'bly make it just fine, too. But we're gonna keep ya under observation a few more solars just ta make sure."

"How long will it be?" Dion asked.

"As I said, just a few solars," she clicked at the datapad, reviewing some notes.

"I mean our sparkling. How long until it sparks?"

The word "spark" meant a few different things in context with the Cybertronian language. It referred not only to the source of their lifecycle, held within their chestplate. It also referred to the solar that a sparkling was separated from its creator's spark and placed into a protoform, becoming an entirely new bot.

"Oh, that. I'd give it a couple'a stellars," the femme answered, glancing at them. "Durin' them stellars, yer not ta work more'n a few megacycles at a time without rest. No strenuous activity, not even strainin' yer processor. Just relax an' rest. I'll send a letter ta yer big boss-bot ta explain all this, jus' ta make sure it don't happen." She turned to leave again, but stopped, glancing over her shoulder plate at them. "Oh, an' I shouldn't hafta say this, but _no_ interfacin'. Not even without a sparkbond."

Perceptor's usually green faceplate flushed a bright crimson at being told so candidly about his physical love life. "We weren't planning on it!" Dion snapped, cheeks only mildly red.

"Suuuure ya weren't. Yer mechs, it's all y'all think about." With a huff, as if it were _them_ who had said something extremely inappropriate, Ivee finally left.

The two bondmates stared at her as she left before looking at each other. Perceptor finally snorted out a laugh at Dion's red cheeks. "What're you laughing at, you're about as red as she is," Dion grinned, sitting on the side of the berth and reaching down, pulling his bondmate into a tight hug.

"Yes, but you simply look silly when you're embarrassed," the scientist chuckled, wrapping his arms around his bodyguard's neck and holding him tight. "I can't believe we're going to be creators…" he finally breathed out, nuzzling Dion's chestplate. "…we're going to have a youngling all our own… won't it be wonderful…?"

()()()()()

"Alright, Perceptor, how're ya feelin'?"

The question was becoming commonplace, and it was his last solar under watch, so he didn't mind.

"I'm feeling much better, less faint than before," the scientist smiled at Ivee as she observed his spark and the smaller pulsing one in it's center. "However, I am still having trouble with my optics. I can't seem to focus very well."

"Hmm, that sounds like yer little faintin' spell damaged somethin' in yer optical centers, alright. Shoulda cleared up by now, otherwise. I'll get ya put on th' list for optical repairs, but it might take a while. We're pretty full up on th' repair waitin' list with all the soldiers comin' in from the war. We're gettin' creamed out there."

"That is why I need them repaired. Even if I can only work megacycles at a time, I have to help. The war effort needs more weapons, ones the Decepticons won't see coming."

Decepticon was the new term to refer to the Destrons. No one was really sure where it started, but it was extremely fitting to most for the traitors. The Destrons didn't seem to mind it either, accepting it like some Primus-forsaken badge of honor. Many bots who called them Decepticons from the Autobot Elite Guard did so, however, because it was too painful to refer to them as Destrons anymore. Destrons were friends and allies, bots who fought for the defense of Cybertron. Decepticons were enemies who had to be taken down before they did the same.

"Well, we _have_ been experimentin' with some optic upgrades," Ivee said, walking to the other side of the room and reaching in a drawer. She pulled out what looked like a yellow visor, but it was smaller than most of the ones he'd seen before. "We modified it to function like a portable optical repair module. Essentially, attach it to yer optical sensors and it should do 'til we can getcha a permanent repair."

"…I would prefer not to be seeing yellow," Perceptor said, unsure.

"Don't worry, that's just aesthetic. Ye'll be seein' normal."

Perceptor tried to think of another reason not to attach the odd looking piece of glass to his faceplate, but finally sighed and gave in. He held it out to her and she showed him how to properly attach it to his optics. A moment later, he was looking at his reflection. Since they were such a short notice temporary replacement for the repairs, they fit a bit awkwardly. Most visors covered the entire optics, but these only covered the lower half. They were rectangular, except for the bit that was shaped to conform to the bridge of his faceplate, and he wasn't sure how flattering they made him.

Ivee, however, seemed to like them. "Ya wear 'em well fer a nerd."

He sighed, looking back to her. "If you say so."

"I think so," came Ultra Minor's vocals. He was leaning against the door, smiling. He pushed himself off the door and moved over to the berth, leaning down and pushing the glasses up with a servo. "Very cute."

Perceptor blushed for a moment then smiled. "I suppose so…"

"I know so." Dion gently kissed his bondmate on the corner of his optic, then on his lip components.

"HEY!" Ivee's vocals cut into their moment. They both looked at her, a bit annoyed. "I said _no interfacin'_! 'Specially not on mah repair berth!"

"We weren't-!"

"Yeah, yeah!" she waved them off, obviously not believing them as she stalked to the door. "Yer free to go at any time, but that's not an invitation to do anything inappropriate in my repair bay!" She closed the door with one last huff. "Mechs."


	6. Family and Lullabies

**Disclaimer: I own the lullaby, but that's all. Kthnx.**

**Note: **Yeah, I ran out of excuses, lol. I'm just gonna update and move on. BTW, again, no sexy stuff this chapter. Cause, you know, Ivee said no. And Ivee's _scary_ when she's mad. And I greatly enjoyed writing that lullaby.

**Note 2: **I almost forgot to mention this! The Eurythmians are a reference from G1, in case anyone was wondering where they heard that before. Watch "Carnage in C-Minor" for details, but be warned it is _bad_. Not "BOT" bad, but still pretty damn bad.

**Read & Review Acknowledgements:**

**Thephoenixqueen**, **svLightspeed**, **Empress Megatron**, and **Artemis** – I have to say, the main reason I got off my lazy aft to continue is because I got so much amusement out of how many people are just _dying_ to know who the Sparkling belongs to! But, before that (cause I'm a horrible person), you get a fluff chapter. Read my fluff and enjoy it, darn it!**  
Amai Seishin-Hime** – Thank you for reading and reviewing as well! I love how you were the only one _not_ totally dying to know, lol!  
Remember, guys, keep reviewing if you keep reading, please! Cause I love opening my mailbox and seeing all your lovely names!

**Chapter six  
Family and Lullabies**

Ultra Minor entered the room he shared with his bondmate, audio receptors perking immediately. A gentle humming sound emerged from the far end of their quarters, sweet, soothing vocals that he'd know anywhere.

Perceptor sat at his desk, scrawling across a datapad rapidly. While he did so, he hummed a quiet lullaby with his gentle, elite vocals. Every once in a while words would emerge, though they were strange and foreign to the soldier hovering behind him.

"That's beautiful, Percy," Dion muttered, wrapping his arms around the thin neck before him and kissing his cheek. "What is it?"

Perceptor smiled, nuzzling back against him. Their deep bond allowed him to know when his bondmate was near, so unless he was in deep concentration or thought he was rarely startled by the larger mech. "A Eurythma lullaby. I found the music while dabbling in their culture. Fascinating people. They communicate in nothing but harmonies, thus every verse in their songs has a special significance. Lullabies are especially important, because they're believed to influence how their young will grow and what kind of people they will be."

"Oh, really?" Dion chuckled. He loved listening to Perceptor talk about whatever sparked his interest. Especially now that he was with spark – a concept that still knocked the Minor off his pedes – he began dabbling in odd things at seemingly completely sporadic times. The interests themselves seemed to change twice a day.

One amusing incident saw the young scientist doing his job, creating something Dion didn't even try to guess at, when he suddenly sat stalk-straight as if something important had just occurred to him. He had suddenly shouted, "Thermo-dynamics!" as if it were the sporadically discovered meaning of life and jumped out of his seat, dashing from the room and leaving his project behind. Two solar cycles later, he re-emerged from their quarters after working almost non-stop and had built arm-mounted flame- and ice-throwers. It was the most bizarre and fascinating things anyone in the Science Division, or the two bodyguards who watched over them, had ever seen. Oddly, after only a decacycle the throwers were misplaced and no one had seen them again. Perceptor himself shrugged it off, stating that if he kept track of where all his inventions went he'd go half-mad.

"Oh, yes," the scientist continued, pulling a datapad out of a pile and scrolling through it delightedly. "Did you know that the Eurythmians are capable of creating a three-part harmony of destruction? Imagine that! Being able to fight a war with nothing but music! Well, I was so inspired by it that I am working at being able to duplicate that kind of harmonic power, but I'm afraid I am still far from being able to even _imagine_ how we can create such perfect sounds. Cybertronians weren't exactly sparked for music, you know."

It was sadly very true. Especially in the thick of war, there was no need for such frivolities as music. Perhaps one day when the war was over, there would be a chance for music to become a part of their culture again. But there was simply no time for it anymore.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something. No mind in the Science Division shines as bright as yours."

"Come now, Dion…" Perceptor's faceplate tinged with red as his optics drifted down to the datapad in embarrassment. A light smile still played upon his lip-components, though. He pushed the little yellow visor he was still getting used to back up the bridge of his faceplate. "You and I both know that isn't true. Crosscut-"

"Could only dream of being as brilliant and inventive as you," Dion cut him off. He hated when his bondmate tried to play the inexperienced assistant. He had the potential to be the brightest star in the Science Division, but Crosscut was always pushing him back down. Even though he was training Perceptor to be his protégé, Dion could tell he felt threatened by the prospect that he may no longer be the smartest mech there. He'd seen it happen over the stellars that he'd been spending in the Division watching over his charge. Anytime the Head of Science was presented with something revolutionary these solars, no matter who presented it, as Perceptor wasn't the only brilliant mind by far in the Division, Crosscut either shot it down as useless, a waste of time, or he offered to 'improve' upon it, and presented the creation as his own.

Perceptor was the only one immune to the latter. Being as the Magnus seemed to favor the Minor and his bondmate, Dion could usually convince him to take the time to accept Perceptor's inventions personally. Perceptor appreciated it, though felt as though he was cutting behind Crosscut's back by doing so.

"Dion…" Perceptor sighed, shaking his helm. "Crosscut is only trying to… to…" He found he couldn't finish the sentence. Not honestly, anyway. He'd noticed it, too. His mentor had changed over the stellar cycles. It wasn't just when Dion came in, it started centuries before. When he started working in the Division under Crosscut's watchful eye, he was amazed at how radiant and ingenious the Head of Science was. He was kind to the young scientist, showing him every trick of the trade he knew. Treated young Perceptor as his own.

Perceptor never knew his own creators. He was raised among a family of Autobot Elites who seemed to deem it a great charity to adopt every wayward youngling of whom they considered 'Elite material'. He was raised with over twenty other younglings. To say it was a family was being generous. It was more a training ground for up-and-coming political figures that would further the mech and femme who raised them's goals. He honestly didn't remember most of the other younglings that had been there. He had been painfully shy, even back then, and buried himself in his datapads and the scrapped electronics his 'siblings' threw out after becoming tired of them. Taking them apart, rebuilding them. After a while, he even began experimenting creating _new_ things with the parts.

It didn't take long for the two adoptive-creators he lived with to discover what they held in their servos. He heard every term. A genius. A prodigy. Brainy. Accomplished. His most hated one was _gifted_. As if being able to process almost everything placed in front of him, being able to replicate vital internal parts of bots with scrap-metal, having the capacity to improve upon the natural and synthesized abilities of those drafted to fight in the war, all made it a privilege to be shoved into the Science Division, unable to ever leave, forced to build weapons for the rest of his lifecycle because no one could see any kind of end to this war. But Crosscut had been the first time he felt like someone cared about him, about his situation. At least… for the first few centuries. He couldn't remember when he first noticed that Crosscut had become… cold. Harder than the Head of Science he'd looked up to when he was first taken to this place.

After that, Perceptor had retracted back into his shell, hiding among his inventions and dabblings, not even speaking that much to the mech he had been sent to assist. His modifications continued to be praised, his processor renowned, but the young scientist as a mech became… forgotten. He had surrendered himself to his fate, trapped in the cold confines of science by his own art.

And then the Destrons had attempted to take him. It had been the most terrifying experience of his lifecycle. If the guards hadn't been there, if he hadn't screamed for help, he didn't know what would have happened to him. Would he have been imprisoned, forced to build his weapons and modifications for the Destrons? Would it have been that different from the situation he had been forced into anyway? He could have resisted them, maybe refused, but what would they have done to him then? It was all he had kept thinking about when he was called before the Magnus, the what ifs. The might have beens. He knew it was silly; he wouldn't have to worry about it now. They were giving him somebot to protect him. Likely somebot like Road Rage. He wouldn't have minded that. He liked Road Rage. She was largely quiet, unable to communicate with the scientists without getting a processor ache, but she was also very kind to him.

When Perceptor had seen him, though… Ultra Dion was perhaps the most fascinating creature he'd ever laid his optics on. He could see it in his own optics, that they were very similar in their situations. Unable to escape that which was forced upon them by circumstance. He'd read a lot about love and romance, bonding and even… interfacing, when he was younger and curious about such things. There was no real study to tell him what it was like to get hit so quickly and so hard with the want to know what a mech was like inside his spark. The want to touch him and to be touched back, to _love_ him and to be loved back. But that was all he remembered feeling when they first met. It was as if the entire universe conspired to bring these two sparks together.

"Percy!"

"What?" Perceptor blinked and shook his helm, staring at his bondmate, who looked concerned.

"What do you mean 'what'? You've been staring off into space for a while; I thought maybe your processor finally fried."

"Oh, very funny," the scientist giggled, shoving his arm playfully. He stared up into his lover's optics. They were so different now than they were those stellars ago when they met, yet still so much the same. Still as dedicated, soft and caring, but no longer filled with the dread of being trapped. He felt the same. As long as Dion was with him, he'd always be exactly where he wanted to be.

"So, you going to tell me what that song was about?" Dion's voice interrupted his thoughts again. Unlike most bots that weren't sparked for the same curiosity that scientists were, he was always honest about his questioning. He didn't just ask to humor his bondmate, he honestly loved hearing him talk about these things.

"It's an old Eurythmian lullaby meant to inspire a feeling of security and comfort in dark times."

"Sounds cheerful."

"Oh, hush. I simply don't want our sparkling to be forced to face this war so young. If I had my way… I wish this war would end before it ever grows old enough to become entangled in it," Perceptor placed a hand upon his chestplate, feeling the growing pulse of the spark within his. "I do not wish it to feel the fear of battle, or sadness of loss that many are forced to acknowledge now."

A larger, gentle hand covered his own and he looked up into the smiling faceplate of his bondmate. "I know. I don't want any of it either. So let's help it in any way possible, okay? We'll do whatever we can to end this war long before our little one even realizes it ever happened." He placed a servo under Perceptor's chin, tilting his faceplate up and kissing him softly. "Come on. Lay down with me, and I'll let you sing that lullaby all you want."

The scientist smiled back warmly, standing and following him to their berth. When they were both settled, Perceptor wrapped in Dion's arms, he sighed contentedly. He wished they could simply stay like this forever, never having to leave the safety of each other's embrace. "If you'd like, I can try and sing it in our language," he offered.

"I'd like that," Dion affirmed, kissing his helm.

Perceptor took a moment to process the song so he could do a proper translation without losing the melody.

_Oh, prowler of the shadows  
Do not despair the dark  
For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your light_

_Oh, prowler of the shadows  
You needn't fear for me  
For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your gift_

_Oh, prowler of the shadows  
When will you come home?  
For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your guide_

_Oh, prowler of the shadows  
The world is your song  
For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your melody_

_Oh, prowler of the shadows  
Sleep well and dream of peace  
For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your lullaby_

When he was finished, he opened his eyes, peering up at his bondmate. He then giggled lightly. While he was singing, Dion had fallen into recharge. It at least held up hope for their sparkling. So he shuttered his own optics and snuggled back in, falling peacefully into recharge himself. He could feel the gentle pulse of his lover's spark under his helm, and the contented pulse of the tiny one in his own, and he no longer cared about his own youngling-hood. This was his family. And he could never have been happier than he was in this moment.


	7. Spark

**Disclaimer: As with everything else I manage to write, I don't own it. It belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Don't sue me.**

**Note: **Well, this is awkward. A whole eight months. Well, better late than never, right?

**Note 2:** I assure you, despite how final the end of this chapter sounds I'm not done with this fanfic yet. There will be more. I swear, Ivee gets more Southern as I keep writing her. That lullaby was never meant to be this important, it just kind of happened. And I decided that spark-birth has to be just as unpleasant as childbirth, even if it's nowhere as... messy.

**EDIT**: That's it, no more 5am updates for me, lol. I cleaned the chapter up so it no longer reads like it was done by a first grader. Enjoy. Also, I failed to mention this before, but my amusement at everyone's guesses on whose sparkling that was never ceased. Well, time to find out!

**READ & REVIEW ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:**

**Shunner68** – lol, I'm aware how rushed the first chapter of this whole thing was. At the time when I first started writing this, it wasn't supposed to be a chapter fic, but instead a one-shot. So everything was supposed to happen in one chapter. When that changed, I couldn't adjust much in the first chapter without having to re-write it.  
**Guest **– Haha, rest assured that wasn't the last one, and neither is this one. I'm just really slow lately. Mostly because of my fanfic workload. Sheesh, why do I torture myself like this?  
**Kcx **– Would you believe me if I said the entire idea for this came from the fact that there was no other Ultra Magnus/Perceptor fanfics out there? Lol  
**M.A** – lol, the entire reason I'm replying to this one is because I _can't_ reply to any of it without spoiling the whole chapter. For some reason I thought this was fantastic.  
**scLightspeed**, **Amai Seishin-Hime**, and **Shouting-mime** – Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, guys! Thank you for all the support, and please continue! I know, no sexy this chapter either, but mostly because this fanfic got _way_ too plot-oriented for constant sex, lol. But keep me encouraged, and I promise the sexy will return!

**Chapter Seven  
Spark  
**

"Perceptor! Are you done with that prototype?"

"Nearly, Crosscut. I simply seem to be having a bit of trouble focusing this cycle."

"Well, don't strain yourself. I don't want another call from that medic monitoring you and that… thing inside you. I'm half convinced she's lost her mind."

"Yes, sir."

Ultra Minor sighed, rubbing his optics. They hadn't been getting much recharge lately. The farther into spark Perceptor was, the less recharge he got and more he seemed to busy himself. He tried to remind him that Ivee ordered he didn't overexert himself, but the scientist would simply smile and assure him that everything was fine. He wanted to push the issue, but he didn't have to spark to. After all, Perceptor was simply happiest when he was working on a project. Well, besides when he and Dion were together in their solitude. He could tell there was nothing that made him happier.

"So, do you know how long until you're lucky creators?" Road Rage teased, nudging the Minor with her elbow. They leaned against the opposite wall, watching Counterbalance patiently help Dion's bondmate. They had both been vital to the couple's continued happiness together. Whenever either had a complaint about the other, all they had to do was speak to their respective friend and be reassured that they could persevere throughout it all. After all, they were bondmates and their love was stronger than any speed bump life could throw at them.

"Should be soon. Ivee wasn't completely sure how far along Percy was, but she's been monitoring him and the sparkling. She said it should happen any time now."

"And he's still in here working? Now that's dedication."

"I call it something else, but he'd get mad at me if he heard it."

"Come on, you know these geniuses can't be kept from their work, acid rain or shine."

"I know, but…" Dion ran a servo over his helm. "I just can't help feeling like that thing's gonna start sparking right here when he's in the middle of a-"

"Aaah!"

As if Primus himself had heard Dion, Perceptor suddenly pushed back from the table, servos flying to his chestplate. The entire room seemed to stop, scientists and bodyguards staring a moment before rushing over. His bondmate was the first to his side, taking him gratefully from Counterbalance's steadying hold.

"Oh Primus, Perceptor!" one of the female scientists seemed to be jumping from one pede to the other in anticipation. "Is it time?"

Perceptor simply nodded, optics squeezed shut. He felt as if his chestplate were about to burst open, struggling to hold it closed. It took all his willpower, light seeming to burst in front of his shuttered optics. He was sure he hadn't felt this much pain in his lifecycle. His systems were going into overdrive to keep him from going into stasis lock. The spark inside his own was essentially trying to eat away at his to survive, and his own spark was fighting back for the same purpose.

"Can you move? Should I carry you?" Dion wasn't sure what to do, all he knew was they had to get him to Ivee as soon as possible.

"That would be the most suggestible course of act- ah!" the scientist's legs buckled and he almost blacked out.

"Alright, make room!" Road Rage's voice emerged over the panicked mutterings of the scientists, who despite being the most brilliant processors on Cybertron had no idea what to do in this situation.

Crosscut joined her, barking orders. "Everybot, get to the side! Let them out of the room, for Primus's sake!" For once, his snippy way of ordering bots around was appreciated by the bondmates.

"I suggest we go quickly. I don't know how long I can… ugh…" Perceptor cringed, leaning heavily on his lover.

"Alright, we're going. Hold on, Percy," Dion picked him up like he did when he'd first collapsed, the solar they found out he was with spark. He then took off, making his way to the repair bay. There was no doubt Ivee would be ready for them. She seemed to be preparing for this solar better than either of the to-be creators was for a long time.

()()()()()

Ivee was indeed prepared. She had just been looking over a soldier whose entire arm had been blasted off at some point. However, as soon as she heard that Ultra Minor and Perceptor had arrived and the sparkling was trying to escape, she dropped what she was doing.

"Hey!" he soldier yelled after her indignantly. "What about my arm?!"

"Ye'll get a new one! Sparklin's only decide ta spark once!" she snapped back at him, sliding the door shut before he could argue further.

"Ivee!" Dion looked at her gratefully as she ran up. There were other medibots attending to his bondmate, but he didn't trust any of them anywhere near as much as he did her. "It's time!"

"I noticed, now get outta the way, ya lug!" she shoved him unceremoniously to the side, leaning over Perceptor. "How ya feelin', kiddo?"

"Like my spark is about to tear in half…" he moaned.

"Well, that's essentially what we're doin'. Hurry, get him in and somebot get us a blasted protoform! That spark ain't gonna grow one around it!"

Dion watched helplessly as his bondmate was rushed to one of the adjacent rooms, medics running around him in a frenzy. Sparklings didn't happen as often now during the war, so this was a special occasion. As soon as the panic in the hall died down and he was sure it was safe to follow, he made for the room. He didn't get far before he was stopped, though.

"Ultra Minor!" It was Kup. He only ever seemed to appear at the most inopportune times. He couldn't believe this. The teal mech looked worse for wear, but that was to be expected. Ever since Slipshot had been offlined he took more and more dangerous missions. Dion wasn't sure if he was trying to get himself offlined himself, but knew it couldn't be healthy.

"Don't say it, Kup," he growled.

"I've been lookin' all over for you. The Council…"

"Can get glitched, my bondmate's giving spark in there!"

Kup gave him an annoyed look, crossing his arms over his chestplate. "I understand that, and I wish they'd stop callin' you at times when I know ya'd complain, too. However, they're absolutely insistin' again."

Dion sighed, rubbing his optics. "They can get someone else to save their scientists, there're plenty of other bots just as capable as me."

"Dion, they got word that they're going to attack Cybertron Central Repairs!" the other mech cut in, exasperated.

That made the soldier finally pause. Cybertron Central Repairs… was the building they were in. Surely there had to be a mistake. The Decepticons weren't so heartless that they'd attack a repair clinic, were they? He looked to the room where his bondmate was being tended to, then nodded. "Alright, I'm coming. I'd never forgive myself if something were to happen to Percy or our sparkling."

"That's the spirit. Come on, we'll get an ambush set up before they ever know we're here."

"One klik. I need to let Percy know where I'll be."

()()()

"Aaaah!" Perceptor arched his back, held down by three medics.

"Where in the Pit is that protoform?!" Ivee yelled out the door. "That sparklin' ain't gonna survive if we put it in a chamber without another bot ta go in!"

Dion rushed by her, being the one to shove her to the side this time. He'd have felt bad for doing so if he weren't in such a hurry, and she weren't Ivee. She didn't complain, simply stood by, watching for the new body. He skid to a stop next to his bondmate, who managed to activate an optic behind his visor to give him a brave smile. "It's going to be okay, Percy," Dion assured him soothingly, petting his helm and taking his servos. "It'll be done and over with soon."

"I know…" the scientist managed, cringing. "I just… it hurts so much…"

"No one ever tells you about this part, right?" the soldier managed a wry grin.

Perceptor shook his head slightly, laughing a bit. "It will be okay, though. You're here with me." When he received a guilty look in return, the red and green mech's smile melted away. "Dion… no…"

"I'm sorry. I promise, I won't be far. But I have to… this is important, I have to do this mission." He wanted so badly to tell Perceptor what was going on, but he didn't want to panic him. After all, there wasn't time to transfer him to another repair center anyway, and undue stress couldn't do well for him or the sparkling that desperately tried to burst forth from his chamber. They wouldn't deactivate his pain receptors because it would only cause more problems. Having them deactivated during the sparking process had the danger to cause permanent damage to either him or his sparkling. As Ivee assured him, pain was good. That meant the sparkling was still fighting. And what a fighter it was.

Perceptor looked ready to argue more, but he one look in his bondmate's optics and he understood how important this was. "Okay…" he whispered. "I love you…"

Dion leaned down and kissed him on the lip components, then the helm. "I love you, too." He kissed his sparking chestplate carefully. "And you, too, little sparkling." He then reluctantly let go of his bondmate's servos, backing out of the room and heading off to protect him and their sparkling.

"Ivee, we got one!" a medic rushed in, wheeling a gurney with an empty protoform on it. "Sorry, there's some kind of commotion going on outside, we had a Pit of a time-"

"I don't care about no excuses, just get that thin' ready fer spark transfer!" the red femme snapped at him, pointing to the slab across from Perceptor's. "Somebot get me an empty chamber and prepare th' processin'-wonder!"

One of the medics took Perceptor's servos, smiling reassuringly at him. She had a nice smile, likely the main reason she was hired for this job. She was probably great at telling bots bad news without them panicking. "Perceptor, we're going to go through the sparking process in a couple of kliks," she explained calmly. "We're going to attach a spark chamber to yours, and what will happen is that your sparkling will be drawn to the empty chamber. The hardest part will be separating the two afterwards, since the sparkling has been dependent on you for so long. Even though it's fighting to get out now, it's going to cling as hard as it can to your spark. I'm not going to lie; it's going to hurt like a glitch. But just remember that we're all trained professionals, we're doing everything we can to make this as easy as possible. Everything's going to be okay."

Perceptor nodded, smiling again. "I know. I say the same thing to a soldier anytime they are testing a new weapon and we don't know if it will blow off their servos."

The medic laughed, patting his faceplate gently. "I have the feeling you don't need as many reassurances as most bots."

"No, I am fairly well prepared for this. Please just make sure it happens soon, I am in excruciating pain."

"I know. Here, Ivee is coming with the empty chamber now."

The dark red medic came up, holding an empty chamber in both servos. She looked from the other medic to Perceptor. "Ya ready fer this, kiddo?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Nah, yer not. But it's nice that ya think ya are. Open up."

Perceptor released his adamant hold on his chestplate, and there was a burst of light and energy as the two sparks inside of it battled to shove the other out. Without warning, Ivee shoved the spark chamber she held against his. The reaction was almost instant. The sparkling inside immediately jumped into it, reveling in its freedom but clinging onto his spark enough to continue to feel safe and at home. Ivee pulled back, and the sparkling seemed to panic, trying not to be pulled free from its original home. However, she was patient and waited a moment for it to pull itself reluctantly back into its new chamber, finding itself unwelcome in Perceptor's anymore. She then started pulling again, but part of it adamantly clung onto his spark.

Perceptor let out a scream, the medics holding him down tightening their grip, the femme still holding his servos squeezing them encouragingly. He felt as if the sparkling was trying to pull his spark out with it. He tried to force the sparkling out himself, but it just wouldn't give up.

"Primus, this thing is persistent!" Ivee grunted, giving the chamber some slack again. She waited a few moments, and then braced herself. "Luckily, I'm more stubborn than any blasted sparklin'!" She gave it one more good yank and the sparkling was forced to relinquish its hold on Perceptor's spark chamber, unable to resist both the other spark trying to force it out and the femme's pulling.

Perceptor felt the release of the sparkling, screaming one last time, then making a relieved whimper and collapsing on the slab. That was the worst experience he'd ever had. He didn't care how much he and Dion would ever want one; he'd never have another sparkling if he could help it.

Ivee took the now full spark chamber over to the protoform nearby, carefully pushing into its place in the chestplate. After a few moments, the spark energy began coursing through its new chassis, taking color and form. At first the medics watched tentatively, excitedly, to see which creator it would look most like. One medic suddenly gasped, though. A few started looking at each other uncomfortably.

"Well, that can't be good," Ivee finally announced.

"What? What's wrong?" Perceptor forced himself to a sitting position, despite his objecting systems. He knew he shouldn't be doing so, but he had to know what happened. "Did something happen? Is it okay?"

"Oh, he's just fine. Ye're the proud creator of a healthy mech," the medic told him. She stepped aside so that Perceptor, helped by the young femme medic who held his servos through it, could see.

"Then what…?" the scientist gasped as soon as he saw the youngling. "No…" he groaned.

"Th' problem is that ye're a creator. Ultra Minor ain't, though."

()()()()()()

Said soldier was busily shooting at Decepticons outside of the building. They'd set up a perimeter as far from the clinic as possible. The last thing they needed was for something to happen while Perceptor was mid-spark. Luckily they had given the attacking 'Cons the drop, surprising them with how prepared they were for this. Whoever had given them the inside information, they had given it in great detail. This was someone deep inside the enemy lines. They were driving them back quickly, nothing to worry about. At least, not until they saw the missile a little too late.

()()()()()()

Everything was… fuzzy. He was new to the world, he knew that much. He had been perfectly happy inside his creator until things had gotten too crowded. Now, there was a new-found freedom. Servos and pedes he found he could move if he concentrated on them. He was too weak to move anything else, though. Something was attached to him, siphoning energy into him. Sweet, wonderful energy. Whatever this place was, it was a good place. Why was everything so fuzzy? He could hear vocals. The one that stood out the most he knew well. His creator. The one whose spark he was torn from. The one who sang to him.

"This can't be happening…" The vocals faded in and out. The youngling was still so tired, he had trouble focusing. But he ached when he heard his creator's vocals sound like that. "What am I going to tell him?"

"I'm pretty sure th' truth would be preferable at this point, kiddo." Those vocals he felt like he knew, at least a little. Somebot who spoke to them occasionally. He didn't like how she spoke, but his creator's spark always seemed at ease around her.

"I know… I should have told him the truth a long time ago…" He faded out a bit, trying to stay focused. He had to know what they were saying. After a few moments, his creator's vocals came back. "...should contact him. He should know what we… what we created."

"If ya say so. All I know is there's gonna be Pit to pay when-"

There was a loud sound that stopped the femme's vocals. He felt his chassis shake, but knew he wasn't moving by himself. His creator made a distressed sound and he could see the blur of fuzzy movement as his creator covered him with his own chassis. More sounds as things fell to the floor. The other bots in the room shook as well.

"What was that?" his creator yelped.

"Probably what'cher bondmate went ta take care of," the femme vocals appeared again. He heard other vocals he didn't recognize, but couldn't understand what they were saying. There was another loud sound and more shaking.

"Decepticons… here…" his creator continued to make emotional sounds. "Primus, why?"

He blacked out again for a long time. He couldn't yet tell time. It couldn't have been long, though.

"…sure about this?"

"Yes, it's too dangerous here. They're attacking repair clinics now. I cannot… I _will not_ raise a youngling like this. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him."

"He'll never know ya'll. Ye're just… abandonin' him."

"I know… I wish there was another way, but this is for the best. He'll be safe in Alkaline. After all, that is where…"

Another blackout. He didn't wake up again in that place. Never did see the creator whose spark he resided in for so long. But he remembered hearing that song once more while he recharged. Those beautiful, clear vocals.

_Oh, prowler of the shadows  
When will you come home?  
For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your guide_

_Oh, prowler of the shadows…_

()()()()()

Dion hurried through the building back towards where he'd left his bondmate, defenseless against the rockets that had struck the building. How had they not seen the Decepticon wielding such a large, destructive weapon until it was too late? The 'Con had managed to fire off two shots before Kup got a bead on him and took him out with a single shot to the helm. It was ruthless, efficient, and if it were any other circumstances Dion would have argued it was too much. However, that shot may have saved his scientist and their youngling.

Ivee was standing outside the room when he got there. Thank Primus it hadn't been among the ones that were destroyed. The other medics were no longer in sight, likely moving on to help any who were caught in the blast. She looked solemn, and that made him panic. "What's wrong?" he immediately started asking questions, skipping the formalities. "Percy isn't hurt, is he? Our youngling?"

She held up a servo and shook her head. "Perceptor and the younglin' are fine."

He put a hand to his chestplate, deflating. He'd been frightened for a moment. Then why did she still look so tense? "Can I see them?"

"Ya can see yer bondmate all ya want. The younglin'… well, he'll explain that."

The large blue mech looked confused, almost questioned her further. But she was right; Perceptor would explain what was going on, surely. Perhaps something happened and their youngling simply had to be transferred to another room. That was probably it, right?

As soon as he entered the room, however, he knew something was wrong. Perceptor sat on the edge of his slab, looking distressed and… guilty? "Percy, are you okay?" he asked, taking his bondmate's faceplate in his servos and looking him over.

The scientist stared at him a moment, then nodded. Why did that make him look even guiltier? "I'm… alright."

"And our youngling? How is it? Where is it?"

"He. He's fine as well. We are both… we are both alright."

Dion waited patiently for an explanation. Something had obviously happened, and when he was ready Perceptor would explain.

Finally, after taking a few more kliks to memorize every inch of Dion's faceplate, the scientist said, "But he's not your youngling."

"…what…?"

Before the soldier could fully process that or ask any questions, Perceptor continued lightly. "Dion, there's something you need to know…"

()()()()()

There was a femme next to him the youngling didn't recognize when he'd next come back online. She'd revealed her designation as Ivee as soon as he asked, though. She had smiled and told him that he was as 'inquisitive as his blasted creator' as he asked what everything was and what it was for. He couldn't help it; they were on a transport traveling swiftly away from the city which he didn't even get to see when he awoke. He had complained about his optics not focusing, and she told him she figured that might be a problem since his creator had the same condition when he was sparked. So Ivee had attached something to his faceplate and his vision had cleared up as if it had never gone away.

Ivee told him they were going to Alkaline, an energon farming community deep in the countryside. After having her thoroughly explain what 'energon,' 'farming,' and a 'community' was, he told her that he knew about the move. He'd been awake when she had told his creator that he was 'abandonin' him.' He asked what that meant as well. She was more reluctant to speak of that. Instead, she distracted him with more things he'd never seen before, everything new and wondrous to him.

He was glad when the transport stopped in Alkaline, though. He was getting bored sitting in one place so long, even if that place was constantly moving. Ivee had already told him off for getting up and bothering the other bots on-board.

"Welcome to Alkaline Village," an ancient looking mech greeted them, standing straight and tall and proud. He was fascinated by this mech. "I am Master Kaidon."

"Oh yeah, ye're th' mech in charge'a the ninjabots. I'm Ivee, and this is the younglin' we contacted ya about. We haven't designated him yet, but we'll think'a somethin'." Ivee looked around, and then back at the old mech. "Where's Yoketron? I thought he'd be here ta greet us."

"He will not be joining us, unfortunately. He has duties to attend to."

"But we came all th' way here cause he's his…"

"We are aware of the situation. However, he is expected to succeed in my place. He cannot do so while spark-sitting a youngling as well."

Ivee sighed. "Great, now what'm I gonna do with him?" She glanced down at the youngling, who didn't understand what was going on. All he knew was that he was supposed to be at home here because his creator 'abandoned' him.

"We spoke to a couple in the village. They are merchants, and they sadly cannot give spark themselves. They will gladly accept this gift from Primus. After all, everything happens for a reason. A youngling without his creators must surely be a blessing meant for kind bots without the capability to have one of their own."

Ivee looked unsure at first, but then nodded. "I guess if that's the best ya can do. We can't force yer student ta take this little guy if he don't want him."

"Good, good. However, he will need a designation if he is to be introduced to his new family. Unless he would not mind being named by them…"

"Prowl."

Both of the bots turned to the youngling in surprise.

_Oh, prowler of the shadows…_

"My designation is Prowl."

_Sleep well and dream of peace…_

"Are ya sure? Not many younglin's name themselves."

_For you are loved, you are loved…_

"I didn't name myself. My creator did."

_And that is your lullaby…_

"Huh. He musta given him a designation while I was outta th' room. Alright, then, Prowl it is. Take us ta his new family, Kaidon."

"Gladly. Right this way."

_For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your light…_

()()()()()

"_Dion, please, wait!"_

"You're sure about this, Ultra Minor?"

"_I'm so sorry, please!"_

"Yes, sir."

"_I didn't mean for it to happen… I'm so sorry…"_

"Then I suppose I have no choice. I'm very sorry to approve this, but you will be removed as Perceptor's bodyguard effective immediately. Would you like to give a statement regarding this decision?"

Dion hesitated. How could he explain to the Magnus, to his highest superior and one of the greatest advocates of their relationship, that Perceptor had cheated on him? That he had a youngling with that ninja master's apprentice? Worse, that he _lied_ to him about it for centuries? "Things simply… weren't working out."

The Magnus gave him a doubtful look, but didn't press it. "Very well. Being as you have served admirably, aiding in the rescue of several scientists and defending the Cybertron Central Repair Clinic from attack, I can take into consideration if you have any special requests for where you wish to go from here."

The soldier thought earnestly about it. He hadn't ever thought of it before when he and Perceptor were… well, he had a lot more time on his servos now. He could think of what he really wanted to do with his lifecycle now. Finally, he answered. "I want to be on the front line. To serve the Autobot Elite Guard to my full potential."

"Very well," the Magnus repeated. He made note of it on a datapad in front of him. "You are dismissed for now. I'll contact you with your new orders as soon as possible."

"Thank you sir," Ultra Minor saluted, turning to leave. This was it. A chance at a new lifecycle. One not held back by another, one where he could go anywhere and do anything with himself he chose.

…Why did it freedom hurt so much?

_For you are loved, you are loved  
And that is your guide…_

()()()()()

"I understand, Yoketron. No, it's okay. As long as he's safe, that's all that matters. Thank you. Perhaps I'll come down to visit soon. I'm very busy now, though. Yes, goodbye."

Perceptor disconnected from the call. He wasn't lying; he was very relieved to learn that his youngling had made it to Alkaline without a worry. Though a bit disappointed his other creator wouldn't at least be caring for him, as long as he had a loving family that was all he worried about. Well… that _was_ a lie. There was something else that ate at his spark.

"_I can't believe you'd do this to us, Percy! I trusted you!"_

Dion had never even given him a second chance. He didn't blame him. Perceptor had betrayed him, didn't even try to make excuses for it, simply apologized over and over again. He'd cheated, lied, and broke his bondmate's spark. He didn't know if things would have been different if he had told the truth from the start, but it was too late to dwell on the past. He had to look forward from here. He was sure that was what Dion was doing.

The scientist didn't tell Yoketron about his breakup with Dion. He didn't want him to feel guilty; he had too much to worry about. They both had so many expectations to live up to. The Science Division was the opposite case. They all knew they split up, but he didn't tell them why. He figured those closest to him had suspicions, Crosscut and Road Rage's most likely right, but again he didn't want to unnecessarily concern them. They all had too much to do. The attack on the clinic had given an entire new life to the Autobot army, and more bots than ever were joining now. That meant he had to create better weapons, and the science division as a whole had to produce them en mass.

No, he had much too much to do without worrying about the past. He had to look forward so his youngling, whom he was surprised had designated himself after the lullaby he sang for him, would never have to fight in this war. He had to help it end in any way possible.

_For you are loved, you are loved…  
And that is your gift…_


	8. Downhill

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Transformers or any of the people, places, or things associated with it. It all belongs to Hasbro/Takara. The only things I own are Ivee and Counterbalance. Kthnxbai.**

**Note: **You know, someday I'll actually update without taking forever by it. But I actually finished this chapter while on vacation. Also, my birthday was three days ago. More importantly Dynasty Warriors 8 came out on the same day. So… yeah, you probably won't see me for a couple more months again.

**Note 2: **Oh, Percy, how many mechs want you? If you weren't such a sexy little thing you wouldn't go through this. No sexies this chapter though. Last one in this dry-spell, though, I promise. As you could tell from the first few chapters, this was going to be nothing but smut. But somehow this pesky plot thing came along and ruined that. Sorry, guys.

**READ & REVIEW ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:**

**Kcx** – I actually find it a little funny how many people predicted it would be Yoketron's but no one saw Prowl being the sparkling coming. I love providing a good twist.

**Lair of the Twisted Muses** – I actually find it funny that Word of God says that Percy deleted his emotions being as there is a lot of stuff in the official TFA comics that contradict this. I've mentioned in some of my other fanfics that I actually explain this by saying that he didn't actually delete them, but rather it's a rumor started by the fact that he has such a mechanical personality.

**Pikaseel**, **Amai Seishin-Hime**, **Cjade**, and **PaleAngel90** – Thanks for your patience and reviews, guys! I really appreciate that you guys haven't abandoned me yet! Keep it up, and keep enjoying my writing!

**Chapter 8  
Downhill  
**

"How're ya doin', kiddo?" Ivee asked lightly.

Perceptor took a breath. He glanced at the door to the clinic room where he knew Road Rage was waiting just outside. Crosscut loaned her to his assistant when he left the Science Division, though honestly he only did so for his regular visits to Ivee those days. Even those he was reluctant to traverse out for, though. He would have continued to close himself off to the world if she wasn't so insistent; calling every five kliks to remind him they had an appointment. He knew such thorough follow-ups to sparking weren't normal, but she was trying extra hard for him. He would have been flattered if he weren't so annoyed.

"I'm doing just as well as the last deca-cycle. And the deca-cycle before. And even the one before that. And I've asked you not to call me 'kiddo.' I'm not a youngling, I am a grown mech."

Ivee gave him a look. "Ye're not a grown mech 'til ye're as old as me. 'Til then, ye're a 'kiddo' ta me."

"It's chronologically impossible for me to be the same age as you at any given time."

"Exactly. Ye'll never be the wise, experienced bot I am, so don't even try it. In order ta get close, though, ya gotta slag up every once in a while."

"Yes, well, I believe I've already covered that requirement."

"Ya slagged up once. And honestly, it was a biggie but I've seen worse. _Done_ worse. Ya need ta ask yerself if it's worth beatin' yerself up over."

"I am not 'beating myself up'," the scientist said defensively. "I have moved on. I made a mistake, it's punishment enough that I lost-" His vocals betrayed him, wavering. He shuttered his optics and cleared his vocals, regaining control. "I lost Di- Ultra Minor. I even had to give up my sparkling. You have been keeping tabs on him?"

"Oh, yeah. That kid's got some spunk on him."

()()()

"Prowler, you get down from there right this instant!"

"My designation is _Prowl!_ Not _Prowler!_"

"Your designation's going to be Homeless if you don't get off that energon tower in five kliks!"

The youngling stubbornly crossed his arms, huffing. It had been almost three stellar cycles since he'd been deposited in Alkaline Village, and he was already tired of it. He didn't feel like his spark was in this place, with these bots who weren't even his real creators. They were nice bots, he wouldn't deny that, but they just didn't… _feel_ right. He'd tried multiples of times to sneak into the Alkaline Dojo, where the ninjabots were diligently training themselves into machines of death and grace. He didn't particularly want the training, but something constantly pulled at him to be… curious about it. Every time, though, somebot would catch him and kick him out. This seemed awfully unfair, since he watched others wander in from places far from the village and instantly be accepted and allowed to observe the dojo and its students. He couldn't help but feel as if everyone was trying to keep him from something.

And then there was the other direction his spark kept tugging towards. Back the way the transport had come from in his earliest memory, to the city of Iacon distant and mysterious to him. He still had never seen it, but his tutor constantly spoke of the massive glory of buildings bigger than even the Alkaline Dojo, which was the largest structure in Alkaline. The energon tower was the next largest structure, but even it was dwarfed next to the massive building. She told of mechs and femmes constantly moving and never stopping, each with their own function. Many of those functions were pertaining to the war effort against the Decepticons. He'd never even seen a Decepticon, and everything he was told about them made him wish he never would. Traitorous bots that would do anything to win the war and take over Cybertron for their own selfish goals.

"_I do not wish it to feel the fear of battle, or sadness of loss many are forced to acknowledge now…"_

Prowl put a hand to his chestplate. He never saw his creators, but he could hear their vocals clearly in his spark. Especially the one whose spark he had resided in. Neither had wanted him to ever know war. He had no intention of it, either.

"Prowl, we're not kidding!"

He looked indignantly over the edge of the tower. Sitting on top of it was the best view in Alkaline. He could see into the open grounds of Alkaline Dojo, constantly searching for whatever it was that kept drawing him towards it. He could also see the transport station that took bots to and from the farming village. He knew which one went to Iacon. Had memorized the transport schedule, could set his internal clock to it. He wanted to some-cycle get to that transport and go to Iacon. To find his creators, whom he knew had to be there.

Prowl finally sighed, standing up and moving to stand on the edge. He knew it was mean to enjoy the nervous tension on the ground when he was so close to tipping over and falling, but he couldn't help but wonder if his real creators knew when he was doing reckless things like this. He gripped the edge while he flipped over to the tower supports underneath then climbed down.

"Prowler!" Turbine, the femme of the merchant couple, ran over as his pedes finally touched ground. She lifted him off them in a second, almost crushing him in her hug. "We've told you time and again, don't go up there! It's dangerous, you could get hurt!"

"I'm fine!" the youngling complained. "I just like the view!"

Turbine's bondmate, Double-Tap, came up behind them and smacked Prowl lightly on the back of his helm. "When we say get down from the tower, we mean it! No excuses!"

"Fine, I'm sorry!" Prowl wrestled himself out of his adoptive creator's vice-like hold. "I can't help it, this place is boring! The most interesting thing in the entirety of Alkaline is the Dojo, and no one will let me near it!"

"That's just no place for a young bot, sweet-spark," Turbine reasoned. "They don't do anything but fight all day; you don't want a lifecycle like that."

"No, but I want to see them. They're interesting."

"Turbine said no, end of subject! Now come on, we've got work to do," Double-Tap grabbed Prowl by the arm and started dragging him back home. "Work we should have been doing while getting you off a tower we've told you _multiple times_ not to go up!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Prowl whined, digging his heel struts into the dirt and trying to wrench his arm out of the offending grip. It didn't particularly hurt until he started pulling back, but he had a stubborn tendency to resist whenever someone tried to force him in a direction.

"Yes, yes, we're terrible bots who never let you do anything you want," Double-Tap rolled his optics, grunting as he pulled.

"Honey, you're hurting him!" Turbine scolded, wrenching the offending servos away from her adopted youngling. "I suppose it wouldn't be so wrong to let him have the day off. He can help extra hard tomorrow. Right, Prowler?"

"Whatever," the youngling in question muttered, crossing his arms. "And stop calling me Prowler!"

()()()

"He's as stubborn an' curious as his creator," Ivee smirked cheekily. "He knows there's somethin' in that Dojo he needs to find, an' I don't think he'll stop at anythin' 'til he finds out what. And if that fails, he'll be comin' here. If he's anythin' like ya, he'll find a way."

"I know." For the first time since they sat down that solar, Perceptor finally allowed himself to show emotion. He placed a servo upon his chestplate. "After all this time, I can still feel how lonely he is. I wish I could go there, to comfort him."

The medic reached out, placing a servo on his, smiling gently. "Then why don'tcha? Forget'cher slaggin' pride, kiddo."

The scientist yanked away, regaining his composure. "This is not about pride!" he snapped. "This is about protecting him! I cannot let this war reach him, and if I go near that place I will only bring it with me. I am a walking target, afraid to leave my own lab."

"Ya need a new bodyguard. Or, maybe… yer old one?"

Perceptor stood up quickly, turning on his heelstrut. "Are we done? Because I don't wish to speak to you anymore today."

"Kiddo, ya can't do this to yerself anymore," Ivee stood up as well, following his quick retreat. "If I didn't bother ya to come ta these checkups ya'd never leave th' buildin'! Don't think I don't check up on ya behind yer back with yer fellow scientists."

"Good solar, Ivee," Perceptor didn't even turn around to tell her off, simply speed-walking out the door and past Road Rage, who gave an exasperated sigh.

"Thanks for getting him out of the lab, anyway. Even if he leaves angry every time, he needs this," the bodyguard sighed. "Hopefully he'll cool down by the time we get back to the Science Division."

"Yeah. I'll see ya next deca-cycle. Make sure he's energizin' and rechargin' properly."

"I will. If Dion ain't gonna be here to take care of him, someone has to."

()()()()()

Ultra Minor tapped the datapad he was holding, rubbing his chestplate irritably. It was an annoyance that all these stellar cycles later he couldn't shake the bond that clung between him and… he shook the thought out of his helm. He couldn't dwell on it; it had been nearly half a century. It took every bit of willpower he had not to check in on his former bondmate. Whenever he couldn't fight it, he asked one of the scientists who didn't seem too reluctant to report everything they could. It seemed they were already snitching to Ivee. Count on that medic to completely violate her patients' right of privacy to make sure her most stubborn case was recovering fine.

The Minor insisted to himself that he wasn't concerned by the reports. That Perceptor had hardened himself against everyone around him. He had been expecting at worst that he'd regress back into the shy, withdrawn mech he'd first met. The one he first fell in love with. But instead he was burying himself into his work, trying to come off as emotionless.

"Ultra Minor."

Dion looked up to the door. A mech was standing there, tall and dignified. His chassis was sharp and his gaze was more-so. "Can I help you?" he asked, feeling like he'd seen him somewhere before.

"Actually, I've been sent to help you. My name is Dai Atlas."

"Ah, yes, they said you'd be coming," Ultra Minor stood up and held out a servo. The mech took it, nodding. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Have we met before?"

"You have probably seen me around Iacon. I'm among the Elite."

"Really?" Dion couldn't help but look surprised. "You're Elite? What are you doing in the Autobot Army?"

"Are you implying that those in the Elite aren't capable of fighting for our planet?" the other mech challenged, crossing his arms.

"Of course not," the blue soldier raised his servos in peace. "I'm sorry; it just took me by surprise. I don't think I've met anyone in the Elite who decided to enlist before."

"I'll have you know I was among the first Autobots to do so. I graduated top-tier from the Autobot Academy."

Ultra Minor's optics lit up with recognition. "Wait, that's where I remember you from! We graduated from the same stellar, but under different commanders. You used to fence with Star Saber all the time, we all made bets on who would win whenever you two went at it."

"Ah, that would make sense," Dai Atlas sat in the seat across from him. "I was told we'll be deploying soon on a mission."

"Yeah, we have inside information on an underground Decepticon base," Dion turned around in his seat to the large computer terminal behind him. He tapped at it and a map of Iacon popped up. "They managed to use the tunnels under the city and set up shop right under our faceplates. Luckily we've been keeping tabs on them thanks to Highbrow, our Head of Intelligence. According to our intel, there are 'Con base camps here, here, and here." A few more keys and three locations lit up. "Camps 1 and 2 are going to be our targets, since they're smaller and are on the perimeter of camp 3. If we position our troops throughout the tunnels we'll completely cut off any chance of them escaping."

"Do we know why they're set up down there?"

"Not yet. However, if we can capture Edgeblaster, who appears to be the mech at the center of it all, we can find out what Megatron and his army are up to."

"It sounds like a plan. A very good one, at that. I see leadership potential in you, Ultra Minor."

The Minor smiled, waving him off. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that, but he wasn't sure he wanted to rise to the top of the ranks like many had suggested. He was happy taking his place in the soldiers, fighting on the front line. He was making a difference.

()()()()()

"Perceptor, where are those notes I asked you for?"

"They're in my quarters. I was working on them last night. I'll go get them."

"Very well. Road Rage, will you please-?"

The large femme shook her head before he could finish his sentence. "Sir, you have a Council meeting in twenty kliks. We have to leave now if we're gettin' there on time, and I'm not leavin' you alone out there."

Crosscut made a frustrated noise, but conceded. "Yes, I almost forgot. Thank you. I suppose we can wait until I get back…"

"I can go alone," Perceptor said. At Crosscut's unsure look, he gave him an equally exasperated one. "I do not even have to leave the building to get there. I can take the ground-access tunnels. Decepticons cannot enter those without the guards noticing."

"Hmm," the Head of Science still looked unconvinced. These were becoming increasingly dangerous times. One couldn't be too careful.

"I can go with him," Counterbalance spoke up. "I'm done with my work for the day, and I wouldn't mind."

Perceptor looked surprised. Counterbalance was an important part of his return to normalcy after Dion had left him. He didn't question or judge it, simply treated things as if they were no different. It was completely opposite from everyone else who all tread delicately with certain subjects. It wasn't just that he was pushing everyone away; they were almost forcing him to do so. In trying so hard not to remind him of what he lost they were constantly, though inadvertently, doing so. Counterbalance, however, simply continued things as if Dion had never been there. The Head's assistant was extremely grateful for this.

"An excellent idea. Go ahead, Perceptor. I want the report ready and organized when I return." Crosscut left his desk, heading out without another word. Road Rage waved at them and followed.

"Let me clean up a bit here, then we can go," Perceptor said, gathering up the materials they were working with and organizing them into jars and containers. Counterbalance silently helped him, watching from the corner of his optic. The younger scientist could feel him watching but somehow didn't feel uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because they'd worked together so long. As long as he could remember, Counterbalance had always been there in the labs. He felt bad that the chemical scientist lost his family and friends to Cosmic Rust, but he was also glad it inspired him to work in a field that was required in Crosscut's office. It was nice having a down-to-Cybertron bot like him around.

As they walked towards the exit that led out into the ground tunnels, they talked non-stop about the experiments each was working on. "Have you made progress on that cure for Cosmic Rust yet?"

Counterbalance looked a bit sheepish for a moment, and waited until they passed the guards at the tunnel entrance. Once they were out of audio-range, he confessed, "I actually haven't been working on the cure."

"What? But… you were so determined before! It was like you functioned for that one purpose, to cure that which took your colony!" Perceptor was alarmed.

"I know, but… the truth is that since the Decepticon uprising, we've needed more weapons than cures. So I've instead been looking for a way to weaponize the Cosmic Rust itself."

The red and black scientist stopped. He couldn't believe he just heard that. Weaponize the very virus that had offlined everyone he loved? Was he really so cold? He'd never seemed so to the younger scientist. "Then I suppose… you'll be looking for the cure after the war, then? Once there is no need for it to be weaponized anymore?"

"Of course. That's been my goal ever since that horrible day. But until we win, I simply don't have time for that with the demand for weapons."

Perceptor nodded, understanding that. After all, that was what drew him into making them as well. He really wanted to make things that would help improve the lives of the bots around him, but until the war ended he simply couldn't do that. It was just how it was. "Well, I can assure you, Counterbalance," he said self-assuredly, striding past him. He was heading down the tunnel that would take him to the living-quarters for the Science Division. The tunnels were labyrinthine at best, so he had to pay attention to where he was going. "With my weapons, the Autobots will win in no time. Then you can get right to your cure and I can return to my upgrades."

"Oh, you misunderstand, Perceptor," Counterbalance said, walking directly behind him. "The Autobots aren't the ones who are going to win."

Perceptor stopped in his tracks, optics wide. He couldn't have heard that right. Or it was a joke. A terrible, cruel joke. He turned and gazed behind him in time for Counterbalance to grab his arm and throw him against the wall of the tunnel. Before he could cry out for help, a hand slapped over his mouth, muffling any attempts to get attention. "Come on, Perceptor. You can't actually believe the Autobots are going to win? Not when the Decepticons have such superior weapon designs." He leaned in and whispered in his audio receptor. "Your designs."

The younger scientist's optics went even wider. His designs…? His experiments! The ones that kept going missing! It couldn't be but… it made so much sense now! Counterbalance had been stealing his experiments and designs and giving them to the Decepticons. He felt like such an idiot for waving them off as simply being misplaced. He'd always just chalked it up to his scattered-processor and disorganization. He couldn't believe all of those things he worked so hard on were in Decepticon hands. When he thought about it, it just made him mad enough to…

"OOF!" Counterbalance was caught off-guard as an elbow connected with his mid-section. He staggered back, staring in shock. He knew Perceptor had gone to Alkaline and studied some Circuit-Su, but no one thought he could have actually _learned_ anything in the half-a-deca that he was there. He clenched his dentals and launched himself forward as the red and black scientist took off down the tunnel, trying to find an exit.

Perceptor huffed air through his vents as he rounded corners, back-tracked, and looped around and around the tunnels. It didn't take him long to realize that in the struggle he'd gotten turned around and was completely and hopelessly lost. His only hopes were that he'd lost his pursuer, and that he would eventually find a way out. Preferably one that was heavily guarded.

"Perceptor!" He could hear Counterbalance's voice echoing around the long, dimly lit corridors. He couldn't believe the green and orange mech had been a Decepticon spy. He was always quiet but friendly. "Come back! I'm sorry for attacking you! Look, if you come with me then I can get you in good with the other 'Cons!"

The young scientist snorted. That was a laugh. If he thought that was the assistant's biggest concern, then Counterbalance really did have problems. He rounded a corner and stopped, trying not to vent too loudly. He didn't know the last time he'd run this much. Probably… never. All he could keep thinking was how surprised he was that he wasn't more frightened. Pede-steps echoed closer and he pressed himself against the wall.

"Come on, Percy," there was a bit of a manic tone to the traitor's voice now. Perceptor cringed at the use of the nickname he hadn't heard since Dion left. Oh, how he wished Dion was here right now… "You don't belong with those stuck-up Science Division snobs. You're better than they are, and that's threatening to them. Especially Crosscut. But if you come to the 'Cons you'll be appreciated. The Decepticons know what it's like to be confined to expectations. That's why we fight, so we can be more than that."

Perceptor knew that wasn't true. Counterbalance was buying their propaganda, hook, line, and sinker. He waited until the steps were just around the corner from him. _"Remember to pivot during your follow-through. You want to get as much force behind it as possible."_ Yoketron's voice filled his processor as he crouched into a stance. It was true, he wasn't particularly skilled in any sense of the word, but he could apply his lessons as long as he concentrated.

"Percep-"

As soon as the spy rounded the corner he pivoted and kicked out. His pede connected with Counterbalance's chestplate, sending him staggering and reeling backwards. Perceptor nearly lost balance himself, but landed on both feet and took off as quickly as he could. He just had to get far enough away that-

"Ah!"

He cried out in surprise as he hit what felt like a wall of pure Cybertronian. His lithe frame was knocked clean onto his back, the air nearly out of his vents. When he regained his senses and onlined his optics, he couldn't believe what he saw. A Decepticon sigil glared at him from the chestplate of what had to be the most intimidating mech he'd ever seen. He'd heard about him, Megatron's second-in-command. Edgeblaster. He was armed to the dentals with weapons. Rumor had it that among the Destron Army he had the longest kill-streak, and enjoyed every single one. Perceptor didn't even bother trying to stand up, instead scrambling uselessly back while still lying on the ground. It took three easy steps for the larger mech to be towering over him. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he asked, reaching down and grasping the scientist around the neck with one hand. His huge servos lifted the frightened red and black mech, holding him easily where his pedes didn't even touch the ground. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

"Edgeblaster, sir!" Counterbalance came running up, still rubbing his chestplate from the blow he took. "What a coincidence seeing you here. I was just bringing Perceptor here-"

"It wasn't a coincidence. I could hear your yelling from the camp." Edgeblaster glanced around Perceptor to speak to the other scientist but didn't loosen his grip. "Is this yours, then?"

"Yeah, in a way of speaking, he's Crosscut's prize assistant and I-"

The huge mech cut him off once again. "Crosscut? Well, what a coincidence, we're expecting him at our camp soon as well." At Perceptor's surprised look, an evil grin spread across his faceplate. "Don't look so surprised. We've been planning to capture him for decacycles. Counterbalance told us the egghelm was going to be heading out to a big meeting, so we set up a little surprise for him and his bodyguard. It's as easy as catching glitch-mice."

"Uh, sir, about Perceptor. I was really hoping that he could-"

"Oh, don't worry. I have plans for this nerd." Edgeblaster pulled Perceptor in so their faces were mere inches apart. "We're going to have lots of fun, you and me. Well, I'm gonna have fun. You're probably just gonna scream. A lot." He laughed as a whimper left the scientist's throat. He couldn't believe this was happening. It was his greatest fear come to pass, held in Decepticon servos.

()()()()()

It took less than a cycle for the news to reach Ultra Minor. He rushed to the scene as soon as it did. An ambush unit had attacked Crosscut and Road Rage. It didn't take long for the sounds of laser-fire to fill the plaza. Guards and soldiers turned the public area into a warzone. Casualties reached the double-digits.

When he got there, they were still cleaning up. Decepticon bodies were being wheeled out without much concern. Autobot casualties were lined up so that creators and created alike could be called to claim their family. Among those being worked on by the medics was Road Rage.

"Rage!" Ultra Minor called, running over. The Decepticons had blasted several holes through her mid-section. Electricity crackled from exposed wires and energon and oil leaked rapidly. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. All those stellars they spent sitting in the lab playing holo-checkers, laughing as if they'd known each other for millennia.

"Dion…" she managed, reaching up to him. He took her hand and held on. He looked at the nearest medic who shook his helm solemnly. She wasn't going to make it. He turned his attention back to her when she began speaking again. "Crosscut… they got him…" she managed, vents hitching heavily. "You gotta… gotta save him…"

"I know, Rage. I know," Dion squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'll get the spawn of a glitch that did this, I promise."

She smiled. "Good… shoot him in the… in the aft for me…" She shuttered her optics as she began to fade. "You do me one more… when you tell Perceptor… what happened… you tell him I love him… but then you tell him you love him more…" Her color drained away to gray and he let go of her servos, letting them fall to the ground.

And sitting there next to the corpse of one of his closest friends, the white and blue soldier came to a decision. He was going to grant her last request. Because he looked at her lying there, having offlined without a bondmate of her own, and he didn't want that. He was going to go into the Science Division and ask Perceptor to be his bondmate again. He was going to forgive him for what happened, because slaggit all the war was getting long and casualties were rising. This wasn't the time to hold a grudge over a mistake, no matter how bad it was. He needed to spend as much time with the mech he loved before there wasn't any time left.

When he arrived at the lab, though, he found that Perceptor wasn't there. Many of the scientists were running around in a panic trying to figure out what to do without their Head of Science. "Hey!" he called to a couple of passing femmes. They both stopped and turned.

"Dion!" one said in surprise. She ran over and hugged him, surprising him. "I can't believe you're here! Did you make up with Perceptor?"

The other followed, looking confused. "I'm sorry, who is this?"

"Oh, sorry," the first femme cleared her throat components. "This is Ultra Minor, he's Perceptor's bondmate. Well, former, I suppose. Unless…" She looked at him expectantly.

"I was hoping to do that right now," Dion said. He couldn't remember her name for the life of him, which he felt bad about. But he was in a hurry and would ask about it later. "Where is he?"

"Oh, dear, I don't know," her face became concerned.

"I hear he was heading back to his quarters with Counterbalance. Something about a report for Crosscut," the other femme spoke up. "You really his bondmate? He always seems so, I dunno, cold to me."

"Crash-!"

"Thank you, I'll be going now, then," Dion cut off any arguing that could have followed. He didn't mind what she had said, if only because he was so relieved to hear that the young scientist was with the chemical specialist. Counterbalance was a good friend, he'd keep him safe.

He hurried across the Division towards the living quarters. Hopefully he still had the same room as when they were together. When he got there, though, no one was there, either. He entered the code to the door and found Perceptor hadn't changed it since they broke up. The room itself felt so familiar, with datapads and experiments lying scattered everywhere. Notes were liberally attached to the wall. His spark sank when he saw a holo-projector casting a 3D image of him and Perceptor, looking happy and lovingly at each other sitting on the desk. He'd turned off the projectors he had of them, throwing away a few. He felt like an aft seeing that his former bondmate still kept his.

Dion shook all of it off, though. He had to find Perceptor. It was starting to worry him that he couldn't. So he took off and started checking any place he could remember that the scientist enjoyed being. After checking two other places, he was passing by one of the guard-bots. "Oh, hey, Ultra Minor."

"Hey," Dion waved at him. He slowed just enough to ask, "There isn't a chance you've seen Perceptor, have you?"

"Perceptor? Actually, as a matter-of-fact, I have," the guard said, looking thoughtful. "He was heading into the tunnels last I saw, and…"

Dion's spark nearly stopped. "Did you say the tunnels?"

"Yeah, I was guarding them and he and one of the other scientists went through. I don't know where they were going, but I didn't question it. You know how those science-bots can be."

"Oh, Primus…" the soldier took two steps away from the baffled bot and turned, fleeing towards the nearest tunnel-entrance. When he was three steps down, he stopped himself. There wasn't anything he could do if he got lost down there looking for him. Especially since he was just one bot against dozens of Decepticons. But he couldn't believe it. "Percy… oh, Primus, please don't let them have him…"


End file.
